Down By the River
by TriggerHappyWorld
Summary: A year after the horrific abduction by a psychotic serial killer, Bobby is once again being tortured, only this time by a vengeful killer who isn't after his life, but Eames. X-over with L&O:SVU. Part 2 in series.
1. Sunday, October 3, 2004

**A/N:** This is a sequel to 'In Confines of Darkness' and it is a cross-over with L&O: SVU. However, you really don't need to read 'ICoD' to read this; I explain everything either through dialogue or flashbacks.

**Pairings**: B/A relationship

**Warnings**: This is rated **M** for so many reasons: violence, language, adults consenting to doing adult things, murder and mayhem, and mention of sexual assault and/or rape.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned anything remotely in the Law & Order franchise, the last thing I would do is write fanfiction. The only things I own are my created characters.

**Summery: **"Down by the river, I shot my baby, down by the river, dead." - Neil Young, 'Down by the River'.

* * *

_Alex Eames' Apartment_

_Rockaway, Queens_

"So, are you going?"

Bobby groaned in annoyance as he leaned his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Don't do this now, please, Alex." He hated the sound of his voice begging, but he really hated the fact that she made him get to that point.

Alex would have normally given him a smart-ass remark; instead, she kept herself calm and serious, making him know that she wasn't going to give in like all the other times. "Bobby, I love you, you know I do, so why are you making this so difficult?"

He pushed himself off the couch and paced around the back of it, in-between it and the wall. "Why am _I_ making this difficult? Why are _you_ demanding this of me?" He could actually feel the moment it happened. As soon as he opened his mouth he felt the ground open up under him and swallow him whole.

Alex stared at him in shock. "You...I can't believe you just said that. Bobby, I'm not trying to demand anything from you. I'm asking."

"Then you need to stop asking because the answer is still no." Bobby nearly yelled as his anger with her for bringing this up, again, flared in his already tired and worn-out body.

They had worked a double, nearly a triple with getting no sleep, well he was the one that didn't sleep while Alex always either went home or bunked-out in the department. For three days he worked to the pressure the Brass was putting on them to solve the case, and they did. Just two hours ago they had gotten their murderer to confess and all he wanted to do was have dinner with Alex and maybe have sex before his body gave out on him. But no! She had to bring this up again.

He never felt so angry, and he couldn't believe he was furious with her. How could he be that angry with the only women he had ever loved?

Alex was just as pissed off as he was, but at least she could control her emotions better than him. "This is important to me, Bobby. Why can't you see that? Why can't you spend a few hours out of your day on Saturday and come and have some fun with my family?"

"You're asking a lot."

"No, I'm not."

"For me you are!" Bobby looked away from her probing eyes. He shook his head that was on fire. It was hard to control his anger when that was the only emotion that felt natural for him to express. Lord knows he had been subjected to it enough.

Alex continued on with her tirade against him as she told him, "I don't understand why you're so against this. You don't come to anything that I invite you to. You didn't come to Christmas, Thanksgiving…"

Bobby sighed and ran a tired hot hand through his hair. She was backing him into a fucking wall and that was why he was being so stubborn. Alex knew that he responded that way when she pushed until he felt cornered. Yet, here they were again, battling out their stubborn wills and warring hearts against each other. "And you know that I always spend the Holidays with my mother."

Alex pointed a finger at him; the gesture was mocking his own habit of doing that to her. "I'm not talking about you visiting your mom. You have every right to be with her, but we can schedule your visits around visits with my family. Instead of coming to my parents after you visit your mom, you go to work."

"Yeah, so that the other guys who have families can go home. Every year I give those guys a break to be with their wives or kids…"

Alex sighed heavily; knowing she wasn't going to get anywhere with him with that, she changed tactics. "Okay, I get that. But how do you think it makes me feel when you back off every chance at spending time with the people I care about? Sometimes I'm not sure that you even care?"

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Care, about me?" Bobby asked as he crossed his arms over his chest to keep his mind on track and his fist out of the wall.

"Yes, I love you. You're the one that never says it."

She was right; he has never once said those three little words to her. In his opinion, and mind, those words were never enough. And the very few times he had ever said those words they never sounded like the truth or the meaning of them went unnoticed, ignored. It didn't mean that he didn't think it or want it. "I show it to you every damn day, Alex."

Alex stared hard at him and crossed her arms. "Except when you refuse to do this for me." She was quiet for a moment before she asked, "Is this about your family?"

Bobby stilled and jerked his head to be staring at her. "What?"

"Are you afraid that my family won't like you because of them, because of what you think they know? If that's it then you can tell me and we can talk about it."

She had to ask about his damn past again. About his life and secrets and why he was so damn impossible and stubborn. Bobby dropped his head to be staring at the carpet. She wasn't going to let it go, and he was getting sick of this argument. "Alex…"

"Three times. I've asked you three times for the last two weeks to come to my parents' anniversary party and you've told me 'no' all three times. My dad is starting to think that you're--"

"That I'm what?" he asked as he snapped his head up.

"Abusive or something. They're getting worried because you never come around."

Bobby closed his eyes and rubbed at them with his left hand. "Give me some time, Alex."

"Bobby, all I give you is time. When are you going to start giving back?"

That hit him like a tidal wave; it stung at his heart and he went still with shock. Bobby then felt the anger spur again as his fists clenched. "You don't think I've been _giving_? That I haven't been going out of my way every day to make you happy…to-to thank you for putting up with me?"

"Putting up with you? Is that what you think I've been doing all this time?" When he didn't answer, Alex sighed and rubbed at her face in annoyance. "Bobby, I love and appreciate you--"

"No," he yelled, stunning her. Bobby's voice bounced off the walls and it seemed like it silenced the whole city. "I get it, okay, and I'm sorry for being the man that I am, but that's not going to change. I'm not going to change. I…can't…_give_ you something I don't know how to give. You can't have it all from me." _There! _He finally said what he had been thinking for weeks, maybe even months now.

Alex was debating that over with a shocked, sad, and confused look in her eyes. "Why?" she quietly asked.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. He was feeling so exhausted and tired. All this was hurting his head. _Why? _That was a question he couldn't begin to fathom an answer to. That explanation was all jumbled up in his head and in his heart; it was something that he could never sort out and identify. It just _was_. All he knew was that it hurt when he tried to figure it out. "I can't explain why. I don't know how to, uh…how to tell you how I-I…I think. I just know that I can't."

"Are you scared?"

Bobby weakly shrugged as he eyed the front door. He had the desperate urge to leave. He said too much already.

Alex started biting on her bottom lip, something she did when she didn't know quite what to say to him. "I don't understand."

"I didn't expect you to." Bobby shook his head as he glanced nervously between her and the door.

"Then," Alex took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "We're right back where we started." She crossed the living room to the bedroom and closed the door.

Bobby stared at it for a long moment before grabbing his keys and leaving.

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

Her almond eyes were pleading to him, begging him to leave her alone, as tears slid down her face and leaving streaks of mascara from her eyes to the duct tape that quieted her screams. At the fear in her eyes, he felt himself get hard. The look was nearly overwhelming, almost causing him to lose his control. It made him furious that she was testing his limits, pushing him with the way she kept crying.

Without saying a word, he smacked her. The forced caused her skin to break open on her cheek. The tears mixed with blood and he couldn't help but wiping it with his fingers before tasting it. The salty copper taste on his tongue ignited a fire within him as he closed his eyes and savored it.

Soon, he would make her his, and then he would keep her forever his by making sure no one else could ever have her after him. But, not now. He had to wait.

The waiting always made it better.

* * *

_Mike's Tavern_

_Long Island City, Queens_

"You're being an asshole."

Bobby sighed heavily and nodded in agreement with Lewis's assessment. Yeah, he was, but…but…He had no way of finishing that thought. He was still angry and the scotch wasn't helping his brain anymore than his emotions were. All he knew was that he had hurt her. And that caused him the most painful throb that settled in his heart and head.

"You love her?"

Bobby couldn't look over at his friend so he focused on the amber liquid medication in his glass. "Of course I do," he stated firmly into his drink before he took a sip of it. He did love her, so what was his problem?

"So what's your problem?"

He looked over at Lewis and frowned, wondering if he had read his mind. Nah, he was just asking the obvious. Bobby returned his attention back to the scotch in his hand and rubbed at his temple that was pulsing loudly against his brain.

"You're afraid of commitment."

Bobby didn't respond, but he did give a curt nod before he downed the rest of his drink and gestured for another.

Lewis pushed him on the shoulder as he told him, "You weren't supposed to agree with me! You were supposed to get pissed off and go storming back to Detective Alex and…"

Bobby glared hard at him as he waited for the bartender to refill his glass. "But I am afraid. She scares me probably more than anyone I'd ever met in my life. And…and I don't know what to do about that." His voice was soft and defeated. "I don't know what she wants or...how she could possibly want me to give it to her."

It was the truth. Everything about Alex scared him because he didn't know what she wanted from him. After all this time, he was still confused. It wasn't just her love for him, but it was everything else. Getting into this relationship with her had changed everything in not only his personal life but his professional life as well. It caused everything to become more complicated.

He used to think he was a pretty simple man. Now, he realized he was anything but simple.

Bobby heard Lewis's voice but not the words. He tilted his head down to the left as he peered over at his friend. The confusion was written all over his pain-filled face. He had no idea what Lewis just said.

Lewis took a long drink of the beer before he asked again, "I said, I thought that after a year of being together that you wouldn't be like this anymore. I mean, what are you so afraid of anyway?"

Bobby returned his attention back to his drink. He knew what he was scared of; he knew what terrified him and made him doubt the love of the woman who for the past year and a half he was able to call his partner and lover. He was afraid of her seeing the real him. The man he had kept buried deeply in his damaged soul. But, most of all, he was scared of losing her because of it.

Taking more than enough out of his money clip, he tossed some bills on the bar as he slid off the stool. "Lewis," Bobby said as way of saying 'goodnight' to his friend.

As he turned to leave, he heard Lewis say behind him, "Are we on for Saturday?"

Bobby stopped in his tracks and turned around. "What?"

"Saturday, are you coming by the shop or not? I got the engine for your Mustang, remember?"

Oh, God. He had forgot. That was the reason he couldn't go to Alex's family...thing. For over four months him and Lewis were working on his dream car, a 1967 Ford Mustang convertible. It was nearly complete, all that was left was putting in the engine. Bobby stumbled slightly as he stepped closer to Lewis as he eyed the blurry floor. "I, uh...I don't know. I might be going with Alex. I'll call you."

Lewis, instead of being upset or disappointed, grinned like a little kid. "Don't worry about it. Tell Detective Alex I said 'hi'."

Bobby couldn't believe he just did that. He had turned down getting his car finished to go with Alex to her father's house, to meet her family, after he had gotten pissed off and told her no for the third time in two weeks.

Leaving the bar and heading slowly toward the subway, he shook his head. He hoped Alex realized and understood what she was doing to him, because if she didn't than she could burn him, or make him insane, whichever came first.

It wasn't until he staggered into his apartment thirty minutes later that he fully realized how furious he still was with her. She had come to his place and was waiting for him as soon as he shut his back door.

And it wasn't long before she did what he feared she would; she hade made him go absolutely insane.

TBC…


	2. Monday, October 4, 2004

**A/N: **To those who have read the epilogue to 'In the Confines of Darkness' the first part of this chapter should seem wonderfully familiar.

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

_Greenpoint, Brooklyn_

There was a coldness tickling his legs but his chest was comfortably warm. He felt safe, happy, and content with lying right where he was and never getting up. A hot breath skidded over his throat as his arms wrapped tighter around the woman who was draped over his left side. The silky smooth skin teased at his fingertips, spending a shiver down his spine.

He had yet to open his eyes, he didn't need to. During the past year and a half, he had memorized every scar, every curve, every spot that made the woman on him quiver and every spot that made her scream; every way of making her feel loved, wanted, and his.

Alex had succeeded in making him forget about the foolish belief that he was happier alone. So he spent his waking hours reminding her just how truly grateful he was that she was still there with him and loving him even though his insecurities remained, his stubbornness continued, and his secrets stayed just that: secret.

Even now, when she was asleep, he messaged her back with his fingers, keeping her at peace in her dreams. He never wanted her to feel troubled, not while she was with him. There had been times when she had hid her troubles from him, when a case got rough and she was doing all she could to not let it show. But she could never hide from him for too long. It always came out, either in a sudden fight over something trivial or the silent treatment that lasted hours. She had her tells.

Then once he got her to admit that she wasn't upset with him but she was fuming over something work related or something with a family member, they were okay again. And the makeup sex was wonderfully hot and heavy, clumsy and rushed and perfect. It wasn't always like that; sometimes it was tender and sweet, teasing and long and perfect. No matter how they got started or how they ended, it was always perfect. They were together and that was all that mattered.

Last night had been different.

It was one of those nights where they were both angry about something and their frustration built until they devoured each other. It had showed in every way possible as they ravaged one another like hungry wolves. They didn't even bother to take off their clothes until after they were breathless and drifting into sleep.

That had been one of the very few times where the word 'fucked' could be used to describe what they had done to each other. And from the way he felt right then, he didn't know if he wanted it to ever happen again. It wasn't that his body felt bad, his mind felt bad.

Alex stirred lazily in his arms and his arms tightened just a fraction to let her know he was there with her; he wasn't going to let her go unless she pried them apart. He felt the trickle of hair on his face and he turned his head, barely parting his eyes.

She was staring at him with a sleepy smile on her natural face. Alex had never looked more beautiful. He knew she would disagree, saying something like it was morning and her hair was a mess and she wasn't wearing makeup and blah, blah, blah…

The way Alex reached up and rubbed at her eyes like a child made him smile a sleepy smile right back at her.

"Thinking about me?"

Bobby's grin grew as he stared into her tired glossy brown eyes. "I don't have to think anymore," he said as he leaned forward and lightly kissed her eyelids. "Mmm, you're so warm." He buried his face in her neck as he rolled them onto their sides.

The smell of them together was unlike anything in the world. It was heaven. She was heaven and she took him there every time she looked at him, spoke to him, touched him…kissed him.

Alex's arms wrapped around his neck and started to soothe his back and head with soft caresses.

They didn't say anything for a long time as they held each other, letting their hands and fingers soothe their tired and sore muscles into gentle ease. It wasn't meant to excite or demand; it was to comfort and to say the words that they should have said last night before they hastily went at each other when their angry words had died and settled between them like knives stabbing at their hearts. They hadn't gone to bed angry; they had fucked each other angry. And that felt a million times worse.

Finally, not being able to take the silence anymore, Bobby hesitantly asked, "Are we okay?"

Alex stilled her soft caresses and pulled away from him so she could look into his eyes. He saw a number of things boring from her almond colored eyes: confusion, fear, and grief, but what pushed all those aside and what poured from the words she spoke was love. "Yes, we are."

Three simple words and that was all it took to let him breathe out the weight he had been holding in. Bobby captured her mouth in his and thanked her by pleasuring the lips that he had bitten hours before. In all the years he'd known Alex he had thought that he could never, ever be angry at her about anything to where it clouded his judgment and threatened his temper.

But then he fell in love with her, and love always made him do stupid things like igniting an already stressful and heated discussion into a full-force, no holds bar, yelling match. Neither of them had won; they had both lost that battle. And he was in no rush to go a round two.

He really wished he could say that he couldn't remember what the fight was about. It would have been easier than to know that it was something that _would_ be dealt with again. And again, and again, because even though he loved Alex to his death, there were some things that she didn't need to know.

She had said it herself to him before, that she had secrets and that some weren't meant to be told. When she had forgotten that last night, it had spurred their little war. In all things considering, she should have been apologizing to him; she should have been the one to ask the heavy question that pulled at both their hearts, and she should be the one making him moan like that as he deepened the kiss and made love to her mouth.

However, even though she started it, he was the one that wouldn't let it go. He was the one that lashed out at her first, and he was the one that had bit her when she had tried to apologize just seconds before he pushed her into the wall and attacked her like some crazy sex-driven beast.

The only thing that shocked him worse than what he had done to her was what she had done to him. Instead of kneeing him in the balls and letting him whimper like the dog he had been acting like, she took him to the floor and gone at him just the same. It had been scary, sexy, and damn near irresistible all at the same time.

Last night Alex had achieved the unthinkable; she had driven him completely out of his mind.

And now, she was going to pay for that.

"Bobby," Alex breathed out as he released her mouth and started on her neck.

The taste of her salty skin on his tongue never ceased to excite him. With soft feather kisses and the teasing of his warm tongue over her skin, Alex began quivering in his arms. Her hands continued to knead at his shoulders and back, and run through his hair and then along the back of his neck. She was urging him on, welcoming him; loving him.

His hands started wandering. Capturing her breast in his right hand he massaged it, mended it to his hand as he caressed over her nipple until she was panting in deep breaths. With his left hand, he ran his fingers down along her leg, leaving a trail of fire hot skin before he lifted her leg up around his waist, giving him better access to her ass which he playfully squeezed.

"Oh, God…" Alex voice was thick, heavy with want. "My whole body feels like it's on fire."

Bobby kissed her neck one last time before reclaiming her mouth. Their hot tongues and lips tangled and danced with each other, igniting the burning pleasure within them even more. He released her tortured breast as he brought her left leg up to lock with the other one. His fingers ran up her thighs, causing goose-bumps in their wake.

Her body shivered under his hands as he smoothed them up her sides before he sliding them under her body, lifting her against him as he pressed down into her. He held her tight against him as he shifted forward; their wet tongues slid apart as he started to fill her.

Unlike last night, he took it slow as he entered her; feeling her warm wetness surround his aching member sent shivers down his spine. She was always ready for him. "God, Alex…hmm, so good…incredible…"

He felt her tremble under him as he pushed in one more long and agonizing slow time, completely filling her. He heard her breath hitch as she bucked up to him. She had taken him all in and it felt so incredibly good. It was the best place on earth, being buried in her like that.

"Bobby, please," she pleaded with a silky moan.

The love he was feeling intensified as he heard her voice and knowing that she wanted and needed him just as much as he wanted and needed her. Kissing her over her neck then over her bruised, swollen red lips he started a slow, gentle rhythm; easing in and out of her so they could enjoy the feel, building on that tight spark of pleasure that began to grow deep within them.

"Bobby….Bob-by…"

He loved to hear his name on her lips as she gasped and moaned with every thrust that got deeper and faster. It urged him on as he gripped the bed sheets under his hands tighter and picked up the pace, sending her speechless, breathless, and gasping for more.

He started in on her neck again as one of her soft hands clenched his back, digging nails into his skin. The pain caused him to hiss but it only fueled the fire within him more. "Alex," he whispered into her ear as he drove into her. "So good…feels so good, Al--" the words caught in his throat as the pleasure started to become too much.

She responded by groaning as her legs pulsed and tightened around him. Oh, God, it was getting harder to think, to say anything as his breath came in short gasps. He was getting close; he could feel the heat engulf his stomach, the growing tightness between his legs. Alex was close too; she wasn't speaking and her breath was hitching and catching with every thrust.

"Bobby," Alex managed to squeak out; her voice was thick with the need to come.

The burning wet walls around him suddenly caved on him. Alex bucked hard as she barely got out his name before the words caught in her throat. He groaned and thrust as deep as he could into her one last time. He nearly froze as the quaking wave of pleasure overwhelmed him as Alex trembled under him.

Neither one of them wanted to move. He especially didn't as he hugged her shaking body to him as she came down, back to him. He could stay just like that for the rest of his life.

"Don't…even think…'bout moving," she panted into his ear.

He smiled into her sweaty neck, releasing a deep and heavy breath. He wasn't going anywhere.

Suddenly a loud voice interrupted their blissful afterglow. "Good morning on this rainy Monday morn--"

Bobby smacked the alarm clock so hard it nearly tumbled off the side of the nightstand. "Damn alarm," he grunted into Alex's neck.

Alex chuckled into his shoulder and turned to look at him. "It's Monday."

Bobby groaned and went back to breathing in her hair. "Not in my world."

Alex grinned as she rubbed his back. "I know, but we have to get up. Deakins will fire us if we're late."

Bobby peered at her with one open eye. "That'll be the day."

"Move your ass, Goren," the strict tone she was going for was ruined as she started laughing. "I need a shower."

"You smell amazing; sweat, sex, and me. It's a wonderful combination."

She smacked him on the shoulder as she continued to giggle under him. "I mean it."

Bobby finally shifted up onto his right elbow, slowly slid out of her, and then rolled onto his back. He moaned at the loss of her around him and sighed in frustration. "If you weren't so slow at getting ready, we could have laid here for another half-hour."

"Uh-huh, and when I get out of the shower you better have coffee ready for me."

"Yes, my Queen." Bobby smiled warmly over at her and watched as she made her way toward the bathroom, naked. "Love the view."

"Thought you would," she fired back before she disappeared into the bathroom.

Minutes later he heard the shower start up. Well, he had to get up but he couldn't find the will or energy to do so. Why did Alex have to be so damn irresistible? She was a wicked, wicked woman.

He rolled back over onto her side of the bed and breathed in the scent left in the sheets. Just leave him there; he could call in sick or something couldn't he? Alex could too; then they could spend the whole day wrapped around each other.

Bobby was slipping into the comfortable gentleness of sleep when he heard the alarm go off again. Gripping the clock radio, he yanked it hard, pulling the plug right out of the wall. Lying back down, he stared at the ceiling as he heard the water splash in the shower. He had to get up and the only thing that motivated him was the thought of that water running over Alex's body. If he couldn't spend the day in bed with Alex, maybe he could at least spend some time with her in the shower.

Rolling out of bed, he headed toward the bathroom. "Hey, Alex," he called over the running water. He stuck his head around the curtain and smiled at the sight of the naked soaped up woman before him. "Want company?"

Alex peered over her shoulder at him. "Am I still going to get my coffee?"

Bobby grinned as he pulled the curtain closed after he stepped in. "Of course," he said right before his lips reclaimed hers.

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

_16th Precinct, Manhattan_

"This guy goes way back," Elliot called over his shoulder.

Olivia approached his desk as she tried to read what was on the computer screen. "Are you certain it's the same guy?"

Elliot handed her the printed out copy of the report he was looking at. "It's the same M.O. as all the others; same rituals, methods, lack of evidence, and same dumpsite near a river."

Olivia sat down at her desk and flipped through the pages. "How many is this now? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen," Elliot corrected as he got another hit. He read over the report and sighed in anger. "Nineteen victims that we know of over the course of thirty years and this last hit was from a cold case back in '74." As he started to read the entire report his stomach began to churn as his fists clenched.

"So, this guy must be at least in his late fifties, maybe sixties," Olivia was saying.

Elliot slightly shook his head. "There was a witness." He looked over at Olivia as he tried to control his anger. "If this is the same person, he didn't start when he was in his early twenties. This report, it says that he was just as kid, about thirteen."

Olivia dropped the file as a look of disbelief clouded her eyes. "Are you serious? Who was the witness?"

Elliot got up and grabbed the papers that were being printed. "It doesn't say; not all the information is there, just the basic facts. Maybe the 4-9 would still have it in their records." He tossed the papers into a file folder and picked up the phone. In seconds he had Lieutenant McMasters on the phone from the 4-9. "Yeah, Lieutenant, this is Detective Elliot Stabler from Manhattan's Special Victim's. We're investigating a serial rapist and murderer, and we have reasons to believe that your department handled one of the victims a long time ago…Yeah, that's right. The year was 1974, would you still have the files, or…The records department at One Police Plaza. Okay, thank you."

"Trying to find a thirty year old file in that place is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, Elliot. There's no way we're going to find it."

Elliot groaned. It was a long shot, but it was one they had to take. "I know, but if we can find out who this witness is, maybe it'll help."

* * *

_Major Case Squad_

_One Police Plaza, Manhattan_

Bobby tossed another file in the space between him and Alex and groaned in frustration. Ever since they walked into the squad room four hours ago they made themselves at home in one of the conference/interview rooms to work on their case from last week.

A daughter of a Judge had been found dead in her Upper East Side apartment, COD was strangulation. With no witnesses, no solid evidence like DNA or blood, no weapon found at the scene, no leads, and no apparent motive, they were working every angle they could think of to solve it. That was why they were burning out their eyes looking through every case within the past year with the same M.O.

Leaning back in the chair, he rubbed at his eyes and stretched his legs under the table. His leg brushed up against her leg lightly, causing Alex to glance up, she gave him a soft smile before dropping her eyes back to the file she was reading. That one smile was enough to ease his frustration, if only for a moment. Straightening, he grabbed hold of another file and flipped in open.

"Well, this one fits," he said as he tossed it on the 'maybe' pile. Since they had no idea if this was a serial or a random attack, nothing was certain.

Alex tossed hers on the other, higher pile and shook her head. "This is getting tedious, and my back is killing me."

Bobby studied her for a moment as he grabbed another file and opened it. "If you wanna take a break, go 'head. I don't mind." Going back to reading the file, he heard Alex get up from the table and leave the room.

Not more than a minute later, he heard her voice coming from the doorway, "I'm gonna go for a walk, pick up some lunch."

At the word 'lunch', Bobby looked up and asked, "Where you going?"

"The deli down the street." Alex gave him a soft, amused smile as she turned and called back, "The usual?"

"Yeah, thanks," he confirmed as he returned to the tedious grunt police work. Bobby was hoping by the time she got back that he would at least get the second box cleared.

They had already gone through one box of files and had half of the second one and full third one left. It didn't take long before he tossed the empty second box onto the floor and dumped the files that weren't a match to their case into it. Deciding to take a moment to relax and stretch, Bobby got up from the table and headed to his desk to retrieve a marker. He was going to start brainstorming on the white board once Alex returned.

He was just turning to head back to the room when he caught sight of two detectives coming around the corner, heading his way. Bobby's breath caught as he momentarily froze. He realized that he was staring when Detective Benson caught his eyes and frowned. Looking away, toward the floor, he took a second to gather himself before glancing back up at the SVU detectives.

Stabler came to a stop near him, not coming any closer than a few feet, as Benson came up and shook his hand. "Hey, Bobby." She looked around as she asked, "Your partner around?"

He glanced back over at Stabler who was studying the books lined up next to his desk before answering her, "No-no, uh, she went to get lunch. Why--I mean…What's going on?" Bobby was trying hard not to panic, especially since they were asking about Alex. He was afraid at first that the reason they were there was because of the Jacobs case, but it had been over a year since that happened. So, he was confused when they wanted to talk to Eames.

Benson looked over at Stabler who was studying Bobby closely like he would a suspect.

Sensing the tension that was nearly rolling off Stabler, Bobby shifted uncomfortably around as he waited for Benson to answer. When neither of them said anything right away, he sighed heavily as he kept a tight hold on the urge to snap at them. "Is something wrong?" he asked as his patience started to slip.

Stabler finally told him, "We've got a meeting with your captain, and we're going to need you and Detective Eames there."

When that was all Stabler offered up, Bobby looked over his shoulder at the captain's office and saw that he was on the phone. Nodding with at least getting an explanation for their visit, and feeling like he was being deliberately denied anymore information, he stalked off to the conference room without saying another word to the detectives.

Trying to take his mind off the agitation he was feeling with his brief encounter with the SVU detectives, Bobby picked up a file and started making a list of information on the white board. He had gotten through eleven files, and picking up the twelfth when he glanced up at the sound of the door opening.

Alex was leaning against the doorframe and she didn't look happy. "Captain's office, now. Oh, and I put our lunch in the break room refrigerator."

Bobby nodded as he tossed down the file and marker as he quickly headed to the office. He could see both Stabler and Benson already there, sitting in front of Deakins' desk. Following Alex into the office, he closed the door before heading to the table against the wall where he sat and waited. Tentatively, he glanced over at Alex who was standing next to him and was reassured with the smile she gave him.

Deakins leaned back in his chair and gave them all a once over before coming to rest on him. As if sensing his concern and fear, he smiled as he said, "Relax, Bobby, this isn't about Jared Darsal."

He gave a curt nod but that did little to ease his concern. Bobby didn't think it was since neither Benson nor Stabler confronted him with it earlier.

"Detectives Stabler and Benson are here for another case, one that they think you can help with." Deakins stood and walked around to the front of his desk. Leaning back against, he looked from him to Alex, and then back at him again. "Tell me, what do you remember about Carla Adams?"

Bobby blinked back at the mention of that name and frowned. _Carla Adams? _He looked down at Alex who was staring up at him in confusion. He saw that look again from Stabler, the one that told him that the cop was thinking of him as a suspect. He turned his focus back to Deakins as he answered, "I…I remember everything about Carla Adams. She was twelve when she was murdered near the Bronx River thirty years ago. I-I, uh…I was the only witness." Feeling her eyes on him, he looked down and caught Alex's concerned eyes studying him.

"You were thirteen?"

Bobby jerked his head away from Alex and stared at Stabler before giving a small nod. "Why are you asking about Carla Adams?" He looked to Deakins for the answer, but it was Benson who spoke up.

"We're investigating the murders of nineteen women, all with the same M.O. as her. We have reason to believe that Carla was the first victim."

He closed his eyes, and seeing the black lifeless eyes of Carla looking back at him on the river bank, he ran a hand over his face before rubbing it hard over the back of his neck. "Son-of-a-bitch," Bobby breathed out. Nineteen women, that they probably knew of, that had been raped and murdered by the bastard that he had taken Carla's life thirty years prior. "I'm, uh…Where they all raped and tortured be--,uh, before they were murdered?"

Benson nodded as Stabler just glared at him with those stern dark blue eyes.

Bobby tilted his head at them, knowing exactly what the detectives, or at least what Stabler was thinking. "Let me guess, I'm the first lead you've got and…because of being the only witness to the first murder, I'm a suspect."

Alex shook her head and stood abruptly, cutting off whatever Benson was about to say. "You can't possibly think he had anything to do with this?"

"We're just following up on what we've got, Alex," Benson told her as she looked back over to him. "If you can provide us with alibis on the nights that we know of when these women were killed--"

"Of course," Bobby interrupted her. "I'll provide the alibis. What nights were they? I'm sure that most of these killings happened when I've been here, at work."

Stabler flipped open his notepad that he had brought with him as he asked, "The 14th of September, around one that morning."

Bobby breathed out heavily as he thought about that night. "That was a Tuesday…" he looked over at Alex. "We were picking up our order from Wáng Yong Gongg in Chinatown." At the looks he received from both SVU detectives, he explained, "King Yong's Palace…it's a restaurant. Our captain," he said as he nodded toward Deakins, "can verify that Eames and I were on a stakeout from one-thirty until we returned to the squad room at seven that morning. And before then, I was here, all day. The times when I left the building, Eames was with me…like always."

Alex added, "There will never be a time that these murders occurred where my partner doesn't have an alibi. He spends more time at work than he does away from it, and I'm usually always with him."

"You've never clocked out early?" Stabler asked in disbelief.

Bobby thought back and frowned as he realized that the answer was 'no'. "Not that I can remember. And if I am dragged away before at least ten, it's usually by Eames, and she drives me home and we have dinner, or we stop on the way and get something. Sometimes I go to the library and research if I don't go home. I can give you the names of the librarians that work the night desk, and the security guard that lets me in after closing."

Deakins was staring at him in amusement. "You hang out at the library after closing time? Do you ever sleep?"

"I don't need a lot of sleep." Bobby glanced over at Alex who was trying not to blush as she gave him a knowing smile. "But, that's what my days off are for." He turned his attention back to the SVU detectives as he asked, "Anything else?"

Stabler and Benson shared a look before he spoke, "No, we were hoping that you would be able to provide us with some more information. We're basically running on empty."

Bobby shrugged as he slid off the table. "I was a kid, there's not much I know. If you found me, then that means you have the report. All that I know is in there." Taking a breath, he asked what he had wanted to ask since the name 'Carla Adams' was mentioned, "If it's all right with your captain, and you," he looked from Stabler to Benson, and then to Deakins, "I would like to help out, in the investigation. Maybe if I'm able to see the files or…a fresh crime-scene, it might help me remember some details that I didn't think were important when I was a kid."

As he gauged the detectives' reaction, Stabler was apprehensive while Benson was open, Bobby felt Alex move beside him and gently nudged him on his side. Looking down at her, he saw that she had a questioning look in her eyes. Knowing exactly what she was wondering, he nodded a little before going back to watching the SVU detectives.

"I don't know, we'll have to discuss this with our captain," Stabler answered.

Benson was more willing as she told him, "But, I think that he would welcome Major Case's help." She looked back at Stabler who was eyeing her and shaking his head.

Finally, Deakins cleared his throat, breaking the tension in the room, as he made the decision that needed to be made. "I'll get on the phone and ask Cragen if it'll be okay if Major Case assists in the investigation. If he agrees," he was looking right at Stabler and then him as he said, "I expect full cooperation."

Bobby looked over at Stabler who looked less than enthused. He nodded as he agreed. "Yes, sir."

Stabler reluctantly nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay then. Goren, Eames, get back to work." Deakins turned to Stabler and Benson as he ordered, "You two, stick around for a moment; I've got a few questions."

Bobby wondered what the captain had to ask the two detectives but figured it wasn't any of his business, after all, he was ordered to get back to work. He reluctantly left the office and followed Alex to the conference room to finish what they could with their own murder investigation.

As soon as they entered the room, and the door was closed, Alex turned to him and asked, "Are you going to be okay with this?"

Bobby picked up the file he had tossed next to the marker and turned his attention to the white board without giving her an answer.

He knew that she wouldn't let him avoid her questions for long. He also knew once they left work and got to one of their respective apartments, she would lay into him. Not giving it anymore thought, and trying to focus back on the task at hand, he began writing while his mind returned to that day thirty years ago that still haunted him.

* * *

_Sunday, September 15, 1974_

_The Bronx_

It was hot. The sun was beating down on him as he jogged across the street before the light turned. Being a nice Sunday afternoon it was crowded along East 183rd Street. He watched his brother move through the crowd of people coming and going down the sidewalk.

His legs were trying to keep up with his older brother's long strides, but he was losing him in the wave of people pushing him around like he wasn't there. The long, thin form of his brother disappeared down a side street and he hurried to find him. As soon as he rounded the corner someone grabbed him and threw him against the building.

"Dammit, Bobby," Frank yelled at him. "Stop following me!"

Frank may have been older than him by three years, but he was built bigger, wider. And when the time came where he would hit his growth spur, he would be taller than Frank too. Bobby pushed his brother off him as he stepped away from the wall. "I wanted to come."

Frank rubbed a hand through his hair as he started walking again. "You can't, you need to get back to dads before he realizes you're missing."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "I could get kidnapped and dad wouldn't care." The truth of that caused a lump to form in his throat. "Why does he want you to come up to the Bronx for anyway?"

Frank glared back at him as he continued walking. "You know, one of these days Bobby that curiosity of yours is going to bite you in the ass."

Bobby just ignored his brother as he continued to follow him. They went up four more blocks to 187th Street and then started going west, toward Arthur Avenue.

"How the hell did you get on the Subway, Bobby? I know you don't have any money."

Bobby smirked even though his brother couldn't see him. "I jumped the turnstile."

Frank suddenly grabbed him and pulled him down an alley. "You stupid idiot. Do you wanna get pinched?"

"Jesus, Frank, nobody cares if one kid skips fare."

Frank shook his head and reached into his pocket; he pulled out a handful of money and shoved it into his hand. "Here."

Bobby eyed the money as he asked, "Where'd you get this?"

"It doesn't matter. Now, listen…You know how to get to Morris Park from here, don't you?"

Bobby nodded.

"Remember that pizza shop we like; the one with sodas for a dime and--"

"All the girls in mini-skirts, of course," Bobby said as he eyed Frank.

Frank nodded as he looked around nervously. "Okay, go there and wait for me."

Bobby was suddenly confused. Frank looked anxious and a little scared. "What's going on, Frank? Why did dad have you come here?"

"That's none of your business," Frank nearly growled at him. "Now, get out of here. I'll be at the shop before you know it." He stared him down for a moment before he nearly pleaded with him, "Promise me you'll go there and wait for me?"

Bobby hesitantly nodded. "I promise." He could only watch as Frank left the alley and jogged across the street before disappearing down Arthur Avenue and into the heart of 'Little Italy'.

Bobby stood on the corner as he glared down the street. His dad had warned him of that neighborhood, and to stay clear of it. And now he sent Frank right into the heart of it? It had to do with something about gambling; that was the only thing his father paid attention to. Well, gambling, women, and Frank.

Feeling scared and worried about his brother, and wanting to do nothing more than to disobey him and run after him to make sure he was okay, Bobby grunted and resisted the urge as he turned around and headed back east toward the Bronx Park. The quickest way to get to the neighborhood Frank was talking about was to cut through it.

Bobby strolled down the path through the park, toward the Bronx River that separated the park in half. As he neared a bridge crossing over the river, he heard a noise coming from under it.

Trying to ignore it, he ventured onto the bridge and walked halfway across it before he heard the noise again. It sounded like a muffled scream. A rush of panic and fear sparked in his chest, but so did his curiosity and the need to make sure that someone wasn't hurt. He leaned over the side and tried to see what was going on but he couldn't. The shadows kept him from making anything out.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and went back down the bridge. As he got closer to the river and toward the source of the noises, he involuntarily fingered the pocket knife he always kept. He had never planned to use it in a fight, but he never knew what was going to happen from one moment to the next. His mother taught him that lesson many times.

He stepped fully down by the riverbank and under the bridge when he finally saw the two people that were making the noises. To his surprise, they were two kids around his own age.

Bobby stopped in his tracks as he looked the two people over. His eyes were immediately drawn to the girl on the ground, and she looked like she was in pain. "Hey," he yelled out. "Are you okay?"

The boy who was with the girl spun around, glaring over at him.

Bobby swallowed hard at the look on his face; the boy was furious. It took him a moment to ward off his shock at that intense, almost evil stare and that was when he noticed the boy's hands. They were covered in blood. He glanced at the girl again and noticed that she was also covered in blood below her chest and on her legs and arms. "…shit," he breathed out as he stared back at the boy. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

The boy only snarled at him before he pulled something from behind his back. It was a gun.

Bobby stepped back a few feet, ready to run, when he watched as the boy pointed it at the girl's head and pulled the trigger.

The world was a blur. His legs were burning as he tore through the park, toward the street. He didn't remember leaving the river; he didn't remember ever breaking out into a run or anything. The only thing he remembered was the look on the boy's face just before he shot that girl.

Cars horns blared in his ears as he sprinted across the streets that blurred in his vision. As he neared the next block he spotted a car. It was a police car. A cop from the 4-9 was just rounding the car when he slammed into the side of it. Bobby's lungs burned along with his legs as he tried to talk. No words were coming out of his dry trembling mouth.

The cop was saying something to him but he couldn't understand the words from the sound of the gunshot still ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, for some reason, the cop was throwing him to the ground. His hands were yanked behind his back as the handcuffs snapped into place painfully around his wrists. Bobby tried to explain as words finally broke from his lips. "Bronx River…in the park. You have to help her!"

The cop was pulling him to his feet as he dragged him toward the car.

Bobby went stiff as panic flared in him as the officer pushed him into the back of the police car. "Wha--…Why are you arresting me for? I didn't do anything!"

"If you didn't do anything, why are you covered in blood?"

Bobby stared at the cop in horror and confusion. He then felt the thick stickiness on his hands and looked down. His shirt had blood on it along with his hands. Why…?

"_No," he screamed out as the boy pulled the trigger. He stared at the girl as his stomach turned. Staggering over to the water's edge, he hit his knees and threw-up. _

_There were noises behind him and when he glanced up, the boy was staring down at him. This time he could really make out the eyes, they were black and lifeless. The boy raised the gun and pointed at his head. He froze, closed his eyes, and whispered a prayer as he waited to be killed. _"One of these days Bobby,"_ his brother had told him not more than twenty minutes ago. _"That curiosity of yours is going to bite you in the ass."

_Pain exploded in his head and he tumbled over and collapsed against the ground. Darkness whirled around with pain and lightness before sunlight brought him back to full consciousness. Blinking his eyes open, he stared up at the bridge before rolling over onto his side. That was when he saw her. _

_The girl's soulless eyes stared over at him as blood streamed over her face. The sight caused a new wave of sickness to twist his stomach, but he didn't get sick again. He got up onto his hands and knees, pushed off the ground, and then stumbled over to her. _

_Feeling around for a pulse, he barely felt the vein beating on his fingertips. "She's alive." _

_Searching frantically around the area, he couldn't see or hear anyone. He needed help; he needed someone to help her. He _needed_ to help her. Without thinking, he put his head on her chest and listened to see if she was breathing, she wasn't. There was barely a pulse and she wasn't breathing. He was taught CPR by his mother's doctor, just in case. _

_As he leaned down closer to the girl, he could smell something strong and unpleasant and there was also a smell of something sweet yet disgusting; it stung at his nose._

_Shaking his head of the repulsive smells, he began CPR and repeated the maneuver over and over with the same result, nothing. Tears slid down his face and mixed with the girl's blood that smeared his shirt. "God…please…save her, help me save her," he prayed to no avail._

_Finally, getting to his unsteady legs, he took off in a desperate run._

"I tried," the tears were streaming down Bobby's face as he explained to the cop. "I g-gave her CPR…but, she wouldn't come back." He shook his head as it started to pound. "She-she still might h-have a pulse….You can help her…" he stared up at the cop. "Please, just…go to the park. I can show you!"

The cop was still eyeing him but he finally nodded.

Bobby watched as the cop drove to the park and came to a stop a short ways from the path. He nearly jumped out of the backseat once the door was opened. He showed the cop where it was but he stopped just before the drop-off to go down under the bridge. He shook his head at the cop and backed away, his hands still cuffed behind his back. "I-I can't…"

The cop grabbed him and pulled him down anyway, causing him to stumble and nearly fall forward. As soon as they were down, he heard the cop take a deep breath before he mumbled something under his breath as he crossed himself.

If he hands weren't locked behind his back, Bobby would have done the same.

Hours later, he realized that without a doubt, he was the luckiest thirteen year old kid in the world. If it hadn't been for the fact that his brother could alibi him, and a Transit cop spotted him skipping fare, he would have been at Riker's for the rest of his life.

As it turned out Carla Adams had been repeatedly abused and assaulted for over a long period of time during that day. He was just the unfortunate soul that had to stumble upon the horrible ordeal during her last couple moments of life.

It had torn him apart to think no one had come across them before then. That she had to suffer all that time before a sign of hope showed up. Too bad it was him. Why couldn't it have been a cop, or someone that could have protected her, saved her, and let her go home to her family who were now grieving her death.

Bobby shook Officer Thomas' hand but he couldn't return the smile; it would be a lie.

"You did all you could, son. You showed a lot of courage today, you should be proud," Officer Thomas told him.

Bobby felt the heat of anger fill him as he eyed Carla's hysterical mother down the hall. "I don't…feel proud." He felt angry, betrayed, but also focused. His head was clearer than it had been in his whole life.

One day he was going to see to it that Carla Adams' family got closure. No matter how long it took.

TBC…


	3. Tuesday, October 5, 2004

_**A/N:**_ First off, thanks for the reviews and to everyone reading this story. Secondly, I have no idea if Bobby is musically talented, but I just recently found out that Vincent plays the guitar. So I decided that if he plays then so does Bobby.

Also, I own absolutely nothing that I mention in this chapter so don't sue me.

Enjoy!

**

* * *

**

_Midnight_

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

He couldn't get her out of his head. No matter what he did, she was always right there, empty and soulless, staring up at him with black eyes that was perfect for a doll. It had been hours since he returned home from work and he was no closer to getting any sleep.

Carrying the glass that was half full with his favorite scotch, Glenlivet, he paced the length of his apartment. He was walking in and out of rooms with no real purpose except to rid his body of all the restless energy that was still coursing though it. It also didn't help that his mind was racing a thousand miles per second with so many thoughts that he was afraid it would cause his brain to crash. The last time that happened he couldn't even remember his own name for almost ten minutes.

Open books and notes from his binder were scattered over his kitchen table from when he had tried to get some research done earlier to no avail. He was still having trouble figuring out the motive for Annabelle Jameson's murder; he was to have a meeting with her father, Judge Jameson, later that day and he had nothing to show or tell for a whole weeks worth of investigation.

Passing through the living room, he eyed his coffee table that was littered with days old copies of 'The New York Ledger' that had been piled up on his front stoop from the three days he hadn't been home. Magazines on cars and guitars were spread open over the papers, and a couple of empty bottles of Schneider Weisse sat near the edge of the table. An old worn down Taylor acoustic guitar was lain across his couch cushions where he sat it down almost thirty minutes ago. None of these activities had helped to settle his mind nor rid him of his urge and need to move.

The glow from the muted television, which was turned onto ESPN's 'Baseball Tonight', was the only light illuminating the room as he stopped behind the couch and took a sip of the scotch. His goal with the alcohol wasn't to get drunk. That was the furthest thing from his mind. What he wanted was to sleep, and to sleep without replaying Carla Adams' death over and over again in his mind.

Downing the last of the scotch, he ventured back into the kitchen. Turning on the light above the sink, he started to clean out the glass when he heard a soft, familiar, knock on the door behind him. He knew just from the rhythm of the knock that it was Alex. Taking a quick glance at the time on the microwave, he was curious as to why she was showing up at his place at twelve-thirty in the morning.

"Hey," he managed to crack out of his dry and rough throat as he opened the door to let her in. "It's late."

Alex slung her purse onto the kitchen table as she sighed heavily. "Got anything that I'll like?"

Bobby smirked as he opened the refrigerator and shrugged. "If you like German wheat beer, sure."

Alex rolled her eyes but said, "Whatever, just give me." She took the offered bottle of Schneider Weisse and telling him "thanks" as she looked in the corner of the kitchen at the boxes that were still full and pushed up against the wall. "You still haven't unpacked those? It's been almost ten months."

Bobby glanced at the boxes as he opened himself another bottle of the beer. Shrugging, he sat down across from Alex at the table and leaned back in the chair. "Been busy. I might just get rid of what's in those. I mean, if I still haven't even broken the tape off those...why should I keep what's in 'em?"

"Mind if I take a gander first before you toss them out? You might have something I want."

Bobby swallowed the beer in his throat before answering, "Go 'head. You can take them all if you want, probably nothin' but dishes anyway."

"You need to invite more people over," she teasingly told him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long couple of minutes. Bobby was lost in his thoughts again as he sipped on the beer that was freezing his left hand. His thoughts were anything but controlled. They were erratic and coming and going so quickly that some of his thoughts he had no idea why they were there or where they came from. This was why it was so hard for him to explain how or why he knows things or where he came up with some plan or theory that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Sometimes, he wasn't even sure. It just was and he just knew.

Doctor's had a certain condition that describe his brain, but when he was a kid they just called him hyper and a trouble maker and he had issues with authority. Now, they told him he had 'Attention Deficit Disorder'. To some it was a disability that made it hard to work or concentrate, for him, it was what made him a great detective, negotiator, and profiler. A brain that never shut-up or quit working until it figured out the puzzle was what propelled him through every aspect of his life.

But it was also a curse. He couldn't sleep sometimes. Or he would fall asleep only to wake up hours later with a billion thoughts running through his head. Sometimes it took a tremendous amount of effort just to get out of his door in the morning without forgetting to put his shoes on because he was so overwhelmed with what was going on inside his head. It was enough to drive a man crazy.

Once he got to work though, and was hyper-focused on a case, he was okay. The only tells that gave him away that his body and mind was running faster than anyone else's was his bouncing leg or his restless hands that would fidget with pens or paper or tap out beats on his desk. It was impossible for him to not be moving or reading or thinking; as long as he did something, anything, he was okay.

He had learned to control his impulses long ago, while with Gage who was the first person to realize that he had the disorder. He would only let himself go if it valued a case or getting information, like when he let himself almost fall off the top of a building at a construction site. Alex was pissed as hell that he would go that far to prove that the man they were after had no fear. He had fear, but sometimes he forgot that he was supposed to be afraid.

Sometimes he didn't think through the consequences.

"Are you thinking about her?" She asked, but from the way she asked he knew that she already knew the answer.

"I'm thinking 'bout a lot of things," he weakly told her. "But....yeah, she's there too." Condensation from the beer bottle was dripping onto his black sweats so he wiped the bottle dry with the bottom of his white T-shirt, that was when he realized that the bottle was empty. Looking over at Alex, he asked, "Where did you go after work? I thought for sure you would come over so, um....we could, talk."

"Oh, gee, don't tell me you cooked or thought up an apology while you waited up for me."

Bobby redden but meekly said, "No, but I could've." He absently started to peel off the label on the bottle as he waited for her to get serious. And she did.

Alex turned serious as she took a big drink of the beer. "I thought about it, but...I had to see my dad. Carla Adams," she said as way of explaining, "she's the reason you became a cop."

Bobby smirked a little as he told her, "She's one of the many reasons I became a cop."

Alex finished off her beer before leaning back in the chair and telling him, "I didn't have a Carla Adams. Ever since I could remember, I wanted to be a cop because of my dad. Tonight, after work, I had to go talk to him first, before I came here."

"Why?"

"He understands. My dad, he didn't always want to be a cop neither. Actually, he wanted to be a teacher and coach baseball, work with kids. Then...he was held-up along with three other people in a store...Two were shot, a father and son. My dad saved the son but could do nothing for the father. That day, it changed his life." She finally looked up at him. "I thought that maybe you shouldn't work the case. It hasn't been that long since we came off the Nicole Wallace case, and I know you're breaking your back over the Jameson's murder. I was afraid this would be too much for you to handle right now. But, I now know why you have to do this. And, I'm going to be there with you."

As Bobby listened, he was struck by not only the honesty but the fact that she had his back and she always would. "I knew there was a reason."

"A reason for what?"

Bobby smiled as he played with the words 'I love you' in his head. He wanted to say it, but his tongue was holding him back. "A reason that...you know, I'm with you," was all he could get out. Shit, he breathed out deeply as he let another moment pass where he didn't say those words. "I liked magic," he quickly blurted out, trying to change the subject. "Still do, but, when I was a kid I really had no direction. No...thought of what I might do when I got older. So, magic was my focus...well, that, cars, baseball, and girls."

Alex laughed a little but he also saw the sadness in her eyes. She knew what he wanted to say earlier and was disappointed that he didn't. He would kick his ass later for that.

"I wanted to make myself...disappear," he continued to explain, "for so long that actually being able to do it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. It never lasted long, though. My uncle...he, uh, was my only supporter back then, so he would let me work for him on the fishing docks, and pay me under the table, so I could buy what I wanted."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve." He was fidgeting with the bottle in his hand as he tried to keep a clear focus on what he was saying. His ability to speak in a concise manner without running off on tangents took a lot of effort. "After Carla, I lost interest in a lot of things. Magic was one of them."

"All because of her?"

Bobby shook his head. "No. Not just her. It was around that time when my home life was...turning chaotic. But it was because of her that, my, uh...direction, changed. I started to actually think about getting older and what I might want to do. So, I worked, not just at getting through school but I worked with my uncle on weekends and during breaks either at the docks or at his partner's restaurant." He glanced up and saw the question in her eyes at that, but he didn't answer it. "I...I don't ever remember a time when I wasn't working. God," he breathed out heavily as he thought about his missed childhood. "I was so young but I had to act like a grown-up way before I was ready." He started laughing a little as he said, "Probably why I'm such a big pain in your ass now."

Alex's smirked as her eyes watered slightly. She was sympathizing, but she didn't pry any further. Instead, she softly ask, "What happened to your uncle?"

"He, uh, died...cancer."

"Sorry."

Bobby nodded but he refused to look as her as he whirled the bottle around in his hands. "Anyway..."

"Yeah, anyway," Alex said as she got up and grabbed his bottle out of his hands and took it, along with her empty one, over to the sink. She opened the cabinet under the sink and tossed them into the trash. "Did you know that your pipe is dripping?"

"I haven't gotten around to fixing it yet." Bobby watched as she walked over to him and straddled his lap. He sighed heavily in her neck as she hugged him closely to her.

"Why don't you call the landlord?"

Bobby shrugged into her chest. "I can do it; it's not like it's hard or it's going to cost me anything."

Pulling back, he captured her lips with his and moaned deeply into the long, soft kiss. Alex teased his lips with her tongue and he gratefully accepted it, letting her deepen the kiss and explore his mouth that had longed for her to do that all day. If he wasn't starting to feel so tired, he would have been very interested to take it further, but he was starting to shut down finally and the lazy kisses Alex was giving him spoke of her exhaustion as well. Neither one of them was in the mood to do more than kiss and comfort each other with soft caresses. At one in the morning, that was just fine with him.

He didn't know how long they sat their just kissing and holding each other, but he knew that it ended way too soon as Alex let his soft lips slip from hers one last time before smiling and slipping off his numb legs. "Leaving so soon."

Her smile grew as she shook her head. "I've got to go pee."

Bobby acted disgusted as he rolled his eyes and saying, "Too much info, Eames."

She lightly chuckled as she went to leave the kitchen. "And there is no way I'm driving home now. I'll never make it. So, lock up and meet me in bed."

Bobby watched as she disappeared in the darkness of his house before getting up and doing as she told him.

* * *

Alex shut the door to the bathroom and closed her eyes as she leaned back heavily against it. She didn't know if it was her tired mind or her deep love for that man, but what he had said tonight shook her to her core. It also hardened her resolve to love him and be as patient with him as she could. It wasn't easy, but times like these made her know that it was well worth it.

Taking a moment to compose herself in the mirror, she wiped her eyes that had been threatening to break with tears. Her mascara was smeared but that didn't matter, she had to clean her face before going to sleep anyway. She had clothes in Bobby's room that she could change into to sleep.

Opening the cabinet below the sink, she once again shook her head at the pile of 'Playboy' magazines he kept in the corner. "Such a man," she mumbled to herself as she pulled out the small basket that held all of her 'girly stuff', as Bobby would say. She finished cleaning her face, brushed her hair and teeth, and then took out her contacts before leaving the room.

The light to his bedroom was on at the very end of the hallway, but instead of heading to it, she pushed open the door that was directly across from her. She realized it was his study, and it was the only room in the place that was perfectly clean, organized, and just...perfect. It reminded her of the study in her grandfather's house.

Bookcases lined all three walls that were around her, and hanging on far wall above the case were two swords crossing each other. She didn't have to wonder, she knew they were real. The bookshelves were covered with tons of books; many were of psychology, profiling, and criminology. Some were books on every war from the days of Rome to Iraq, or of everything from Art History to Poetry.

Three whole bottom shelves were dedicated to his magazines: 'Guitar World', 'Classic Cars', 'National Geographic', 'The Smithsonian', and the 'American Journal of Forensic Psychology'. He also had whole collections of encyclopedias including a worn down collection of Catholic encyclopedia's, along with just about every type of language dictionary. She spotted a very old copy of the Bible, both old and new testaments, a worn copy of the Qur'an (Koran), and even a Torah--Jewish bible, all stacked together on one shelf.

In-between the books were various items such as signed baseballs and model cars and boats and also mementos from the places he had been stationed or visited during his days in the Army. She ran a finger over his Army beret and then to the hat that was next to it; it was his NYPD hat with his old officer badge still intact on the front of it.

Running a finger over his badge number, 4376, she turned back toward the door. There, against the wall next to the door, she saw an old roll-top desk. The top was open and there was, in a triangular case, a folded-up American Flag sitting on it; through the glass on top of the case she could only see the blue with white stars. Behind that sat a single nameplate. Picking it up, she read the name that was on it: Sgt. Robert Goren.

Hanging above the desk were all his certificates that he had received while in the Army and the few he had collected so far with the NYPD. Along with the certificates, there were photographs of his unit, both with the enlisted men and then with the unit he was with CID. She realized that out of all the photos, he had none of his family. Not a single picture in his whole entire house had family members in them.

Centered in the middle of the wall, and surrounded by the photos and certificates, was a medium sized case that showed off his Army medals and accommodation pins. There were two separate, smaller cases, hanging to the left and right of that case: one held his dog tags, the other held another medal, the Purple Heart.

She was staring at it when she heard him clear his throat. Jumping at the sound, she turned and said, "Jesus, Bobby, you scared me!"

Bobby smiled tiredly at her. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at her somberly. "Didn't mean to," he said softly into the room. His eyes then darted around the study, taking everything in, before looking back at her. "You've never been in here before."

"It's...nice, very orderly."

"Unlike me, right? Or the rest of the apartment," Bobby stated. "I like this room this way. It's...like an obsession to keep it...perfect. Kind of helps give me order when I need it." He stepped away from the door and ventured slowly into the room and up to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned down and kissed her deeply and quickly before ushering her out of the room. "Come on; let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

* * *

_Judge Alan Jameson's Chambers_

_One Hogan Plaza, Manhattan_

Bobby tried not to feel the intimidation from being in such close proximity of the Judge as he moved effortlessly around the office. His eyes were taking in every book, photo, position of such items while at the same time he listened to Alex as she laid out the basis facts of what they knew, which was close to nothing.

It frustrated him that he had nothing more for the grieving father, but some cases took longer to solve. Some cases were so random and hard to grasp as the senselessness of it took over every aspect of it. Like this one. It made no sense, and so far it was a mystery to him.

Annabelle was loved and she had no enemies. She was young and attractive, intelligent, with tons of friends. She was putting herself through Graduate school by working at her father's office. She wanted to be an investigative reporter. Her boyfriend, Steven, was an Art student at NYU and he was completely destroyed by her sudden death. Everything was going good and right for her. So why kill her?

"It's been a week and you have nothing?"

Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the angry Judge. He felt the man's frustration and anger because he felt the same way. "Well, we're doing our best, Judge. Your daughter was very loved and...she's done nothing that could have lead to-to, uh...her death."

Judge Jameson's anger didn't ease as he looked directly at him. "When Captain Deakins said he was putting his best people on it, I expected answers by now."

At the bitterness in the man's voice, Bobby tensed and looked down at Alex for support. She could read him like a book as she turned back to the Judge and tried to get the meeting back on track.

"Your Honor, we are doing nothing but our best; my partner is right. What happened to your daughter--"

"Was a Goddamn tragedy," the Judge said, cutting her off. "She was twenty-five, had her whole life ahead of her, and some son-of-a-bitch took her from it. And you don't have a damn clue who it is or why? Maybe your partner used to be the best."

Bobby frowned and stared hard at the Judge. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe you're not fully recovered. You were the detective that was abducted a year ago. You did have a mental break. Maybe that's why you're being incompetent now."

Bobby's jaw locked so tight it amazed him that his teeth didn't break. Turning away from the Judge before he let lose the anger that sparked in him, he stepped in front of a bookcase and tilted his body down to be looking at a stack of files on the second to bottom shelf. 'State v. Red Light Inc'. He straightened as he asked the Judge without turning around, "You preside over corporate cases?"

"Not usually, that's my first." The Judge still sounded upset with him.

"You normally do personal claims, right?" He asked as he reviewed what he knew of the case against the corrupt computer Software Company that went belly-up a year ago.

"That's right. Why are you asking--"

"Has anyone," Bobby interrupted the Judge, as he turned around and was gesturing around with his restless hands, "uh, comforted you, or expressed, some...resentment over you handling the Red Light Incorporated case?"

Judge Jameson was shifting in his seat as his eyes narrowed. "A few months ago I was cornered by some men who was representing them. They wanted to cut a deal but I refused to play ball with them. That was it, nothing that would cause them to murder my daughter, if that's what you're thinking."

Bobby nodded a little as he asked, "Uh, when does it go to trial?"

"Next week. I had to postpone it."

Bobby looked down at Alex who was looking up at him with worry from the chair she was sitting in. "Okay, I think that's it." He didn't bother to shake the man's hand or say 'thank you' as he turned and left the office, leaving Alex having to hurry to catch up to him.

* * *

_Central Fountain_

_Washington Square Park, Manhattan_

Twenty minutes later, Bobby shifted on his left leg as he tried to get comfortable and took another bite of the Italian sub he had picked up at a deli near the park.

Alex was sitting crossed leg next to him on the edge of the fountain, poking at her Caesar Chicken salad with a fork.

"You gonna eat it or just move it around?"

She shot him a glare before taking a couple of bites. "Don't worry yourself with the Judge, Bobby, he's just angry and grieving."

"He's an asshole. And if he had mentioned the damn corporate case before, then maybe a week ago we would've had a starting point."

"So, you really think the Software Company is involved?"

"Maybe," he simply told her. "I remember seeing some Red Light magazines in her apartment."

"I'll give them a call as soon as we get back to the squad room."

Bobby wordlessly nodded in agreement as he looked around the park. It was beautiful day, unlike yesterday. The only evidence that it was cold and rainy the day before was the soggy grass, other than that, he wouldn't have known that it was autumn. It was warm, no clouds in the sky, and even though it was a Tuesday, the park was busy. "I wonder when the SVU detectives are gonna call," he suddenly asked.

Alex looked over at him as she said, "Probably when they get a fresh crime-scene."

Bobby frowned at that. He hated it, but she was probably right. They really didn't need him yet until the bastard killed another innocent woman. Finishing his sub in two quick bites, he balled up the wrapper and tossed it into the trash can about fifty feet away from him. It bounced off the edge but dropped down into it.

"Show off."

Bobby just smirked as he took a long drink of his diet coke. "Ready," he asked once Alex was done eating.

"Where are we going?"

Bobby pointed over his shoulder to the big red-brick building across the street. "Bobst Library. Steven Ballard works there until three. I'm hoping that he heard Annabelle mention if she was helping her dad with the Red Light case."

"You think she was?"

Bobby walked in-step with Alex, even though it was hard for a man as tall as him to do, as he said, "My intuition says 'yes'."

"Well, that's as good as any physical evidence."

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

He lathered his hands with the scent of L'Occitane's Verbena hand lotion. Its scent was sweet and it was erotically familiar. Going over to the table that sat in the middle of the room, he fingered the Rosary before picking it up and taking it over to the body that was unmoving but breathing. Slipping it around the neck, he breathed in the scent of the lotion that aroused the fiery passion within his craving. His need for her was slowly consuming him; he wouldn't be able to wait too much longer.

The body shivered under his exploring fingertips; goose bumps played against his touch as he caressed the skin down one arm and then up from her thigh to her waist. The convulsion of the muscles told him she was still afraid of him. Turning her head, he saw that the cut on her cheek was healing as the dried blood stuck to her skin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife, a Spy derco Civilian, and ran it over her cheek.

At feeling the blade on her cheek, she let out a muffled scream into the tape. Slicing the cut back open, and making it deeper so the blood flow lasted longer, he smiled.

Going back over to the table, he took his time setting the table for two with his collection of Christofle dinnerware. The Osiris silverware, Albi crystal wine glasses, and Fleur D'argent porcelain plates. He dished out Coq au Vin onto the plates. Uncorking the bottle of Chateau Thieuley, he filled both glasses full with the red wine.

The setting of the table was done.

Looking down at the woman on the floor, he picked her up like she didn't weigh a thing and sat her in the chair across from him. He untied her arms from behind her back but quickly re-tired them in the front of her. Finally, he ripped off the tape, pulling skin off with it, and sat down across from her.

Her pain-filled screams echoed in the room as she pleaded and yelled for help. He listened and watched as he sipped at the wine. Soon, her throat was too sore and weak to continue screaming and she soon went quiet as tears slid down her face.

"Eat, drink...." his deep, throaty voice told her.

That would be the first and only thing he would speak to her. This was her last meal after all.

* * *

_Major Case Squad_

It was getting late and he and Alex were two of the six detectives left in the squad room. Bobby was thinking more and more that the murder of Annabelle was a result of her father presiding over the Software Company case.

Earlier that day, the boyfriend, Steven, had confirmed that she had been reviewing the case with her dad. He also said that she was doing some investigative work for the Prosecution, which wasn't allowed for it might sway the Judge in his decision.

He could see how the opportunity to do some actual investigating would appeal to Annabelle seeing how she was going to school for that sort of work. Bobby had made an appointment to talk with the Prosecutor in the case for tomorrow; until then, there wasn't much else he could do.

Alex had spent the better half of her working hours filling out paperwork and writing up forms that needed to be done. He sucked at the paperwork, and Eames was amazing at it, and fast too. Thanks to her, the only thing he had to do was sign his name at the bottom of the forms next to hers.

"Wanna get some dinner?"

Bobby raised his head as he signed his name to the last file she had handed him. "Like I'd say no." Setting the file aside with the others, he followed her to the elevators.

"You might've, sometimes you run off to the library or the gym after work."

Bobby leaned against the elevator wall as it descended the eleven floors to the parking garage. "Too tired to even think about playing basketball tonight." It didn't' take long before the doors opened and he followed Alex to her car. "Let's get some take-out. I don't think I can handle sitting in a restaurant. We can go to my place and eat while we watch Game 1 of the playoffs."

"Let's see...you, me, take-out, _and _baseball...I don't know, Goren, I think the only way I'll agree to that is if I get to pick where we get the food."

"As long as it's not Thai, I'm good." Bobby chuckled as Alex groaned in disgust because neither of them liked Thai food anymore; one bad experience with it was one too many for the both of them.

It wasn't until they were crossing over into Brooklyn when Bobby spoke again. "Alex."

"Bobby."

He smiled into his hand that was covering his mouth as he looked over at her. "I, uh....I've decided...that, um...Saturday, I'll go."

Alex stopped at a light and looked over at him, stunned. "Really?"

Bobby nodded a little as he cleared his throat. "Yeah. I mean, it has been over a year and...I'm, not gone yet." God, that sounded horrible.

"Bobby," Alex said once she started driving again, "if you really don't want to come..."

Bobby stared over at her as he became confused. "I thought you wanted me to."

"I do, but...I don't want you to feel like I'm_ making _you go. I want you to come because you _want_ to."

Bobby rubbed at his head as he thought about that; it just confused him even more. He would never understand women. "Then...why were you so pissed off when I told you I didn't want to go two weeks ago?" He waited for her to answer and when he didn't get one, he looked over at her and saw the confusion and anger on her face.

Alex finally shook her head and said, "You're still going aren't you?"

"Yeah, but...I'll be driving myself there so you don't have to come get me."

Alex glanced at him. "How are you driving yourself?"

Bobby smiled as he shifted in the seat so he could lean closer to her. "I'll probably take off early on Thursday or Friday so I can help Lewis put in the engine for my Mustang."

"He got the engine! That's great!"

Bobby knew that Alex was just as excited as him about his car. He had promised her that he would let her drive it once it was done.

"See, if you show up at my dad's with that car you'll win him over for sure."

Bobby smiled a little, but it never reached his eyes. He wished he could feel her enthusiasm, yet years of experience had taught him to not get his hopes up for anything, especially what fathers thought about their sons. And in this case he was nothing to John Eames expect for his daughter's weird cop partner boyfriend.

Turning away from Alex, he glared out the window as he lost himself in his thoughts again.

TBC...


	4. Wednesday, October 6, 2004

**A/N: Wow, I'm loving the reviews, they are so informative and helpful. Thanks everyone!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_St. George Country Club & Gym_

_St. George, Staten Island_

Her pulse was racing higher, 180 and still climbing. Sweat soaked through her navy blue tank top making it stick to her body as her legs burned, but it was a good burn. It made her know that she was working hard, pushing herself to go faster and for a longer period of time.

She loved to run. Had been doing it since she was a kid running on track teams all through her high school years. It was her kind of meditation. Once she was running and her legs were in that groove where it felt like she was flying, she was relaxed and happy. Her mind would drift as her body floated. It was cleansing. She was free.

There was no hurt from the memories of her past that haunted her still. No memories of Joe lying on the hospital bed, unable to come back to her before his life faded away. No memory of holding her newly born nephew in her arms right after his birth, only to have to give him away. The pressures from the job disappeared and she wasn't worried or thinking about a case or Bobby.

It was just she, her movements, the air, and the feeling of being one with herself. Nothing else mattered.

She was so focused on her body and what running did for her that she forgot about the woman running next to her at the other machine. Turning her head to the right, she smiled at her sister as she asked, "Tired yet?"

Liz shook her head without losing step. "I'm good for another five, ten minutes."

Alex looked down at the time and realized they had been running for nearly thirty minutes. It felt like they just started. "Yeah, I'm good for another ten."

Wednesday was her late day at work; she didn't have to be at One Police Plaza until ten o'clock, so it was her day to have an early workout with her sister. It also gave Liz a chance to get out of the house and for them to spend some quality time together without her husband, Terry, and their son, Nathan, running around them causing havoc.

"How is Nate doing this week? I haven't had a chance to come out to see him lately."

Liz got a huge grin on her face as she said, "Great. I think he understands that we're going to be going to dads this weekend because he's bound and determined to start walking before then."

That made her smile. It seemed like every week that kid was doing something new. "Yeah, and once he figures it out, he'll be running. I don't see him spending too much time walking anywhere."

Liz was laughing because she knew it was true. Even though Nathan was only eleven months old, he was way ahead of any baby she'd seen. He was a doer, not a sit-back-and-take-it-easy kind of kid. And he looked like his brain was always working, taking everything in until he figured out what to do about it all. Once that kid was ready to really talk instead of just grunting out sounds, there would be no stopping him.

She had a strong suspicion that Bobby was the same way when he was a child.

It had been eight months and she was still missing Nate every single day that she didn't get to spend with him. She had carried him for her sister and brother-in-law and even though she knew that she had to give him to them once he was born, a small part of her wished that he was hers. She hadn't realized how much she wanted and would have loved to be a mom until she actually carried a baby for nine months.

When her and Bobby first got together, he had told her that he didn't want children, and she had agreed. She didn't think she could be a working mom, having to leave her child every day to go to work and not spending enough time with them. It was scary to think that maybe she had been wrong.

"So, Angie was wondering what I was going to get mom and dad for their anniversary. She was talking about maybe all of us chipping in for something."

Alex thought about that as her running slowed as the cool down cycle began. "Sounds good to me, I have no idea what to get them. After fifty years of being together, I was going to get them tickets for separate cruises."

Liz was laughing with her as she said, "I think dad would have a heart attack if mom went on a cruise without him. Mom would be excited though."

Alex smiled a little as she watched the people around them, running and working out. "Bobby's coming."

At that, Liz nearly tripped on the treadmill. She recovered without falling and stared over at her in near shock. "Seriously? What'd you do, cock-block him until he agreed?"

She shot a glare at her sister before slowing down her pace as the machine slowed. "No, he _decided_ on his own, which probably means that he got sick of me asking and gave in."

"I don't know how you put up with him...How _do_ you put up with him? Any other man and you would have left or kicked him to the curb by now. Of course, there hasn't really been any other man since Joe."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say...why him? I know you say that you love him, but he's impossible. From what I hear, he has a lot of problems. Remember Valentine's Day?"

How could she forget, Bobby had succeeded at making her think that he didn't have a single sentimental bone in his body.

"He got you a cappuccino maker."

Alex smiled at the memory. A month before Valentine's Day, Bobby had ordered her a beautiful necklace from Ireland. It was supposed to have been delivered to his apartment on the 14th of February. When it didn't arrive, Bobby went out to get her something quick and he couldn't think of anything she would like until he saw the cappuccino maker.

She could still hear his voice in her head as he explained his reasoning behind it, "_You're always complaining about having to pay $6 for a cup of coffee. I thought you'd like it."_

Alex was still laughing at the memory as she explained "That was a mistake because the Jewelry Company shipped the necklace he got me a day late. God, the poor guy. When he gave me the cappuccino machine, I was so upset. I laid into him hard, telling him that it was a gift a person would get for their mother. He visibly paled, threw his hands up in the air, and sat down on the couch with his arms covering his head as I berated him for almost an hour over it. A whole hour of me yelling at him and he didn't say a word to me about the necklace because he said he wanted it to be a surprise."

Liz was trying not to laugh so hard as she finished the story. "Wow, he must have panicked bad to get you that thing instead of another necklace or earrings or something. Hell, even lingerie would've been smarter than that."

"What can I say, that's Bobby. He may not know how to say it, but in his own way, he shows me that he loves me."

"Yeah, well, Terry's like most men too. He can't find an emotion with a flashlight and map, but he has no problem telling me that he loves me. And he had no problem meeting our folks or spending time with our family and friends."

Alex huffed out a deep sigh. "Neither did Joe. By now we were married and having weekend party's with our friends and families, and renting a summerhouse on the beach, talking about forever."

Liz was staring at her again. "Do you realize that you're always comparing Bobby to Joe? You probably need to stop; it's a losing battle anyway."

"That's not fair," she told her sister as she realized that she had been comparing them. "Bobby is definitely no Joe, but I can tell you that I trust him, and care for him deeply. He's not like some men I've dated who cheated on me or tried to control me. And he would never hurt me physically."

"He's hurt you other ways?"

Alex was quiet for a moment and decided to be honest; she could always tell her sister everything. "He's hurt me emotionally before but he never intended to, he just doesn't know how to relate sometimes. I'm not trying to make excuses," she told her sister before she heard the comeback. "Bobby wouldn't want me to make excuses for him anyway. He hates that. He's very honest," she continued after a moment of thinking, "maybe painfully so. And, he cooks for me sometimes, he makes me laugh, and he never lets my gas tank get below the halfway mark."

Liz chuckled at that. "He fills your tank up for you?"

"Yeah, he does. He started doing it because he uses my car on Sundays to go visit his mom, but now he does it all the time because he doesn't want me to have to spend all my money on gas. Oh and when I'm with him I never have to pay for anything."

"His mom's crazy right?"

Alex frowned as she eyed her sister. "Liz, I don't want to go there."

"Sorry, I was just confirming my information." Liz was quiet for a moment as they both slowed to a walk. "You're settling with him."

Alex nearly laughed at that. "I am not."

"Yes, you are. I know you; I've known you all your life, and Alex Eames, you are settling. It's probably just easy for you to be with him anyway. He does work with you, and you don't have to worry about whether or not he's secretly married like Brad. Or if he's going to have a problem with you being a cop like that one guy you dated...Tim. Oh, and what about that Justin guy. Now he was a real piece of work."

Alex closed her eyes and shook her head. "Liz, I don't need you telling me about every bad guy I've dated. And, I'm not settling. Settling is thinking that you couldn't do better, so you stay with the idiot you're with."

"So, you admit, you could do better and he's an idiot."

Alex wanted to hit her sister, but she was too busy nearly freezing at that thought, and with the thought that soon entered her head. She_ had _had better, and she lost him.

She did have a man who was everything she wanted from a companion. They had a marriage and a deep loving connection that helped them get through the bad times and enjoy the good ones. They had a future that they both thought about and wanted to share with each other, and even though both were uncertain about wanting children, they never ruled it out completely.

She had everything she wanted and ever thought she needed, until it was taken from her.

Liz was looking at her as the machine rolled to a stop. "You're thinking about Joe again, aren't you? And how he was your better."

Damn it, how did she always know what she was thinking? It had to be a sister thing. "It doesn't matter because I'm happy to have Bobby. He's different, and more complicated, and yes, he's not perfect, but I love the hell out of him."

Liz continued to stare at her for a long moment before saying, "I think you're in denial."

Alex stepped off the treadmill and grabbed her towel to wipe the sweat off. "You remember Aunt Janet and Uncle Bill? She was soft-spoken and sweet, always helping out mom with us kids and bringing over pie. And Bill was loud, obnoxious, and rude and he would forget her birthday almost every year because it was during hockey season and he was too busy watching the games. We asked her how she could love him because none of us could figure it out. And do you remember what she said?"

Liz frowned and rolled her eyes. "She said she loved him and he made her happier than any man she had ever known."

Alex was nodding in agreement. "With Joe, it was no question. Everybody saw us and they could see how much in love we were and how happy we made each other. With Bobby, everyone looks at me like I've lost my mind. Everyone that knows about us asks me 'why'. And do you know what I say? I say because I love him, and he makes me happier than I've been in a long, long time. I haven't been this happy since Joe was alive. I know you feel the same way about your husband. The difference is, everyone can see it, but if they didn't and they had to ask, you would tell them the exact same thing."

Liz stepped toward her and pulled her into a long hug. "You're right, I'm sorry. I just worry, that's all."

Alex hugged her sister a little harder before pulling away. "I know, but you shouldn't. You should worry about the couples that look perfect on the outside, because if I've learned anything from my job it's that the wife is usually popping pills and screwing the gardener and the husband is snorting coke and screwing the nanny." She laughed along with her sister before grabbing her bottle of water and tossing the towel into the laundry bin. "Let's go; it's getting late and I want to spend some time with Nate before I have to jump on the ferry."

* * *

_Harlem River_

_Washington Heights, Manhattan_

He removed the silencer then stuffed the gun down into its holster before putting the silencer into his jacket pocket. It had been too short. He was missing his time with her already, and she had only been gone for a grand total of twenty seconds. He watched as the blood seeped from the gunshot wound to her head; seeing it run along the soggy grass and mud and mix with the water in the river.

She had been weak, too weak for him. For the four days he'd had her, she never fought back. _Pitiful bitch. _He had thought from having spent days watching her at the gym and dealing with clients that she would have put up a fight, gotten down and dirty with him, exciting him more. Instead, she did the exact opposite and thought that if she went along with him that he wouldn't hurt her. _Stupid bitch._ She should have known that he was going to hurt her no matter what.

What she did was ruin the game for him, the excitement of the kill. The kill always tasted better if it fights back, if it showed its strength just before death. It would have been more satisfying instead of this...

He scooted his booted foot under her and barely went to roll her before gravity took over. Her body tumbled down the short embankment and almost into the river. Her left arm and leg were floating in the water while her right side was stuck in the mud. The blood now seeped into the water, polluting it.

Staring down at his kill, he pulled out the cell phone in his jacket pocket and dial three numbers.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

He almost couldn't breath; this would be the first time he called in his own crime. "I've killed another one. You can find her on the bank of the Harlem River, Manhattan side, near Washington Heights," his deep, throaty voice told the operator before he flipped the phone shut.

* * *

_Matheson & Clark Prosecution Office_

_One Hogan Plaza, Manhattan_

Bobby shifted in the seat across from Harold Matheson, who was the Prosecutor in the case Judge Jameson was presiding over, as he balanced his leather binder on his right leg. "Mr. Matheson, I know that Judge Jameson's daughter was working for you. Her involvement, investigating the case...that's against policy regulations. Now, I could go to my ADA and get a warrant, come back, and make sure I get everything that proves that on paper and in public record. Or..." he let that settle between them before he continued, "You can talk to me here and now, off the record, and nothing has to come of it. You can deny your part in it later, saying she was investigating it without your knowledge. It's up to you."

Matheson didn't even bother to make it look like he was going to play hardball after that. He sighed heavily, leaned back in the chair, and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses. "Miss Jameson was working for me. She expressed interest in following some leads, and I let her. I know it was wrong, but..."

Bobby watched as his eyes kept darting toward the photo of his wife and family on the desk. He knew what had gone on between them, but he had to make sure. "She was a, uh...a very attractive young woman."

"Yes, she was."

At the reddening of his cheeks and the fact that he didn't get defensive at that remark but instead accepted it, Bobby had gotten his answer. "You were sleeping with her."

"For two months," he simply told him.

"Did she want to end it, once her...assignment was done?" he asked as he looked down at his notes.

Matheson shrugged. "We never really talked about it. I assumed we would."

Bobby nodded as he was already envisioning a scenario where the Prosecutor was her killer. "When was the last time you saw her? That night?"

"No," he shook his head. Matheson suddenly leaned forward on his desk, staring right at him. "The night she was killed, I was with my wife and her parents, at the theater. I'll send over the ticket stubs and you can ask everyone I was with. Annabelle, she was such a loving, good person, but she was also adventurous and rebellious. And like any normal twenty-five year old, she just wanted passion and a purpose."

Bobby didn't know quite what to say to that, so he thanked the man and left the office. It wasn't more than a minute later that his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. "Goren," he said as he answered.

"Hey, it's Detective Benson. We got another body."

Once she gave him the information on where the crime-scene was, he quickly said into the phone, "I'll be right there," before he flipped it shut.

Abandoning his wait for the elevator, he hurried down the stairwell and out of the building and jogging toward the parking garage. It wasn't until he was flooring the SUV out onto the streets of Manhattan with the siren flashing that he pulled his cell out and called Alex's cell number.

"Hey, Bobby," she said sweetly as she answered. "I'm-"

"We got a body," he somberly interrupted her. "Harlem River, by the Washington Heights neighborhood. I'll meet you there."

* * *

_Harlem River_

Bobby pulled out a pair of latex gloves as he approached the embankment. After blowing into them, he slipped them on as he observed the area. Detective Stabler and Benson were already there; Benson was talking to an officer while Stabler was pointing down at the naked female body and asking the Medical Examiner a question.

He didn't recognize the M.E. but he didn't give her presence much thought as he stepped down into the muddy bank and squatted down just above the victim's head. "You done?" he asked the M.E. without looking up from the dead woman's eyes.

"Yes, but I'd appreciate it if you don't-"

Bobby had already reached out and as gently as he could, turned the woman's head toward his. Single gunshot wound to her left temple, the kill shot. There were multiple knife wounds on her face, neck, arms, legs, chest, and...he didn't have to look to know there would be knife cuts on her upper thighs and private areas as well. None of the knife cuts were too deep; they weren't meant to kill her but to inflict pain.

"How many of the other victims were...exposed?" he quietly asked without taking his eyes off the woman.

He heard Stabler answer, "She's the second. All the other had some clothes on."

Bobby barely gave any indication that he heard the answer as he placed his forefinger and thumb against her soft lips before spreading them apart as he bent down closer and took a sniff.

The smell was painfully familiar and he nearly gagged. It was something sweet mixed with a chemical that burned at his nose hairs. He hadn't smelt that in thirty years, not since he had tried to give Carla mouth-to-mouth.

"Uh," he stopped to he cleared his throat when he heard how rough it was. Bobby around for the CSU techs and waved them over. "Swab the inside of her mouth, her tongue, and around the edges of her teeth, and at the back of her throat."

He slowly righted himself as he looked up the embankment toward the other detectives. At the sight of Alex watching him, he smiled a little as he gestured around the area. "No shoe prints down here except for ours," he told her. "The killer, he...pushed her down while he stayed up there," he explained as he pointed up to where she was standing.

Alex looked around the area and shook her head. "It's concrete up here. He's afraid of us knowing what kind of shoe he wears."

Bobby nodded in agreement as he kept his eyes locked with only Alex. "Must be something...uh...unique."

"We're here too, Goren," Stabler told him, not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Bobby stared at him for a moment as he tried to figure out what that had to do with anything, before he shook it away.

"It hasn't been long; the call came in thirty minutes ago. I suspect that's how long she's been dead," Stabler filled in as he went to turn to say something to his partner.

"Then our killer...he might not be too far." Bobby was searching around the area as he made his way back up to where Alex was.

They were very close to the neighborhoods that lined the river. Since yesterday, it had turned cold and it was feeling like autumn. Trees were nearly skeletons as the fallen leaves coated the sidewalks, cars, streets, and ground. Grey clouds covered the sky, making shadows around the homes and buildings dark and inviting for anyone wanting to hide out and watch.

"You think he's watching us?" Alex asked as he came up beside her.

"I know he is." Bobby continued to search the area with his eyes as he explained his reasoning. "He called it in. He's...evolving, taking more risks. He wants us here, now, so he can watch us and let us know that he's in control. And you know what else?" He looked down at her. "He wants to get caught."

"After all this time?"

Bobby shook his head as the familiar anguish of thinking like the killer invaded his mind. "Something happened. And from the sudden change in his methodology, leaving the victims naked and exposed, my guess is that his motive changed. He's looking to fulfill a, uh...different need, or he's obsessed with someone else. Whatever it is, he's not going to stop until we get him."

The officers searched the surrounding neighborhoods, but came up empty.

Bobby walked back to the parked police vehicles with an officer who had helped him search around the block.

As he approached, Alex came around the SUV and headed to her car. "Follow me back to One P.P., I'll drop my car off there and we can ride to the 16th Precinct together."

Bobby nodded as he walked by her and rounded the vehicle and got into the driver's seat.

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

Bobby followed slowly behind Alex as they entered the SVU's squad room. Their department was obviously different from theirs, but it felt warmer and less intimidating. It had to be because it was slightly smaller and the building was older and the colors were darker. The heat was on making him slip off his overcoat and tug at his tie, loosening it from around his hot neck. The smell of coffee filled the air as well as phones ringing and soft chatter from other detectives.

He was about to follow Alex over to the captain's office when he heard a familiar voice.

"Well, well, if it isn't my long lost boy, Bobby Goren."

Bobby turned toward the voice and smiled slightly as he made his way over to Fin. Fin pulled him into quick, half hug. "How's it goin', Fin? I didn't know you transferred here."

"Yep, four years ago."

A tall, skinny man with glasses that he didn't recognize was leaning up against the desk Fin was standing next to. He was eyeing him as he asked, "So, how do you know this degenerate?"

Bobby couldn't help but smile at the playful manner between the two; he must be Fin's partner. "We both worked narcotics...long time ago." He quickly looked over the desk and spotted his name on some forms: Detective John Munch.

Stabler was suddenly standing a few feet away from them. "You used to be a Narc? I can't see that."

Bobby glanced at Stabler before looking down at the floor. A lot of people had a hard time seeing that.

"You kiddin'. Goren was a genius at undercover work. He never got made, not once."

Bobby felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck; rubbing along the side of it, he tried to ease the feeling away. He needed to change the subject, and fast. "So," he said as he addressed Fin and Munch, who still wasn't even trying to offer up his name. "Are you two going to be helping with our case?"

"Yeah," Fin answered. "We'll probably be pulled in to do some legwork, but the main investigation is all you guys."

"Alright," Bobby nodded a little as he patted Fin once on the arm. "We got a, uh, meeting with your captain, so..." He extended his hand to Munch as he said, "It was nice meeting you, Detective Munch."

Munch's eyes widened slightly as he frowned. Bobby couldn't hide the amused glint in his eyes if he tried. "Same here, Detective," he said a reluctantly as he shook his hand once.

Bobby was still amused as he met Alex outside Captain Cragen's office.

"What's so funny?"

Bobby shrugged as he held the door open for her. "Nothin'."

The meeting with Cragen was quick. He just confirmed that they had officially been given the consent of the Chief of D's to work with the SVU on the case, and Eames gave him the run down of what they had so far, which wasn't much.

Bobby closed the door and leaned down to say to Alex softly, "I missed you earlier."

Alex looked up at him, a little surprised. "Yeah?"

Bobby nodded slightly as he said, "I interviewed Matheson and...you weren't there." He went to step away, but quickly sidestepped back and leaned down again. "Missed you, being there."

Alex was trying not to blush as she nodded in understanding. "Next time, I'll be there."

A while later, after both Bobby and Alex went over every file of all nineteen victims, Bobby was rummaging around the department trying to find a board to write on when he found the clear whiteboard in the A/V room by the wall. Rolling it out into the main room, he positioned it up against a wall and grabbed a marker. Unlike the Major Case Squad, the SVU department didn't have separate rooms for conferences or interviews. Everything took place out on the floor.

In one column, he wrote down everything they knew from the bodies and the crime-scene, the killer's methodology. In another, he brainstormed over everything he was starting to understand about their killer, his pathology.

"Do you know what they say about people who are left-handed?"

Bobby stopped writing and glanced over his shoulder at Munch. "What's that?"

Munch shrugged as he said, "You tell me, you're the one who's left-handed." He smiled a little before taking a sip from the coffee cup in his hand before walking away.

Bobby watched him go before turning back to the white board, he shook his head and stared at it. His concentration was broken because of the absurdity of John Munch. Sighing in frustration, he went over to the table that had all the coffee stuff and prepared a cup.

He felt her move up against him as she refilled her cup with the strong coffee. Bobby smiled down at her as he passed her the sugar.

"I called the Captain," Alex told him as she stirred the sugar in her cup. "He thinks it'll be a good idea if we pass the Jameson case onto another-"

"No," Bobby said as he shook his head. "We can handle both cases."

Alex sipped at the coffee and making a face that told him it was still too bitter for her liking. "Goren, you're going to be so focused on this case to ever remember that we have another one."

"I'm not giving up the case, Eames. Look, we have a meeting with the Red Light CEO's and their lawyers in two hours. After talking with them, and we're still at a dead end, then...maybe." He stared down at her for a long moment before looking away. "We can handle both," he stressed again.

Alex finally smiled as she said, "I know. That's what I told the Captain. He was just letting us know that the option is there if we need it."

"Well," he said before he took a long drink for the cup and nearly spit it back out. It was horrible. "We're not going to need it." Picking up the sugar, which he hardly used in his coffee unless he was at a crime-scene at three a.m. or subjected to the 'cup of coffee from hell', he poured enough in it to sweeten two cups of coffee.

"What's this?"

Bobby looked across the room to see Stabler reading over the board. Taking another test drink from the cup, he made his way over to where the other detectives were standing as they reviewed what he had written. "That's what we have so far."

Stabler shot him a glare. "I know that, I mean what's this." He pointed to the other column, the one where Bobby had written down his thoughts about the killer's pathology.

"That's my profile."

"So," Stabler said after he was finished reading, "This guy is, according to you, changing his M.O. and he wants to get caught."

"He, uh...he's getting desperate for the attention. I don't know why, but, he changed a lot of his methodology with the past two women."

Stabler crossed his arms as he studied the photos they had of only ten of the victims. "Seems the same to me. He rapes them and tortures them with knife cuts."

"Yeah, but with all the others, there were years between each murder. Then it moved from years to months, and now, with the last two, it went from two months to only five days...escalation."

"He can no longer control himself?" Stabler asked as he returned his focus to him.

Bobby shook his head. "No, he's still in control. What it means is a-a, uh, a couple of things. He's becoming more confident, yet he's getting more, um...impatient. The impatience is probably what's causing him to want to get in contact with us. What, uh...fueled his need before is different than what's driving him now, hence the change in the way the women were found, naked and exposed. The other victims, they were left clothed and placed under a bridge or overpass." He finally stopped his rambling and mindless movements, his hands falling to his sides as he looked from Stabler to Benson. "He wants to get caught, or else he wouldn't be drawing this much attention to his crime. Not now, not after thirty years."

Stabler looked over at Benson and then back at him as he told him, "This is all great and everything, Goren, but I'll wait to get the rundown from Dr. Huang before I-"

"You don't trust my profile?" Bobby asked in disbelief.

"What I am saying is that I'll wait for the man with a PH.D. in the field to confirm."

Bobby shook his head as he rubbed furiously at the back of it, trying to calm his nerves. "Has anyone ever told you that you're belligerent?"

Stabler redden as he stepped closer to him. "You think I'm stupid?"

"I didn't mean it that way, just...you know, more brawn than-" Bobby was cut off as he was pushed back by Alex as Stabler charged toward him.

Stabler threw a fist that was caught by Fin as he and Munch held him back as they tried to talk him down.

As the guys wrestled with Stabler, Alex pushed him back until his legs hit the side of a desk. He shouldn't have been surprised by the violent response from Stabler; a couple of years ago Elliot had hit him in that very room after he had gotten Jared Darsal's confession. He couldn't take his eyes off the irate man until Eames pulled hard on his tie. Staring wide-eyed at her, he saw that she was just as angry as Stabler was. "What?"

Alex pushed him a little harder before stepping back, just only a step. "What's the matter with you?"

Bobby struggled to say something, but nothing was coming out. He had no idea why she, and Stabler, were both pissed off. "I was just stating-" he finally got out before Eames cut him off.

"I don't care; it was rude and completely uncalled for."

Bobby wasn't getting it; he had spoken his mind many times before and she had never gotten on his back like this afterwards. "I...I don't understand," was all he could say as he shook his head.

Alex sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Just don't do it again, okay, not here," she strictly told him before walking away.

Bobby watched as she stopped next to Benson and Stabler and started talking to them; she was probably apologizing for him. He didn't need her to apologize to anyone for him; it wasn't like he'd done something wrong.

Stabler was still eyeing him with his hands clenched into fists, but whatever Alex was saying to him, he nodded and walked away to his desk. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and left the squad room.

Fin was suddenly at his side; he was staring at him with his arms crossed over his chest and looking ready to deck him. "I've gotta say, Bobby, you haven't changed much in four years." He glanced over at the rest of the detectives before saying, "Next time I'll let him hit you."

Bobby smirked as he nodded. "I appreciate the warning."

Fin patted him on the back before turning to walk away. "And wipe that smirk off your face before Liv sees it."

Alex came back over to him. "We're leaving."

Bobby stilled. "Eames."

"There isn't anything else for us to do right now. The autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow morning, and forensics won't be back for hours. We," she looked up at the clock, "have an hour before we have to meet with the Red light guys, and we haven't even eaten lunch yet. C'mon, lets get back to One P.P., check in with Deakins and go get something."

Bobby didn't want to go. He didn't want to stop working the case, but he knew he had to. They didn't have much to do until tomorrow. They didn't even know who the woman was yet so they had no starting point with the victim. "We need to talk to people who knew the victims. They've all been identified except for this one..."

"Listen, Goren, I haven't had anything since breakfast. It's nearly three. We can start making the rounds of the victim's families and friends tomorrow. Fin and Munch can help, but right now, I need food or else I'm going to kick your ass."

Bobby felt himself give in at that. He hated when he wasn't doing something productive for a case, but he hated a hungry, pissed off Alex Eames more. "Fine."

* * *

_Red Light Incorporation_

_Financial District, Midtown, Manhattan_

Bobby was too restless to sit at the conference table, so he stood behind while holding his leather binder over his abdomen as Alex took a seat across from the two CEO's, Eric Curtis and Matthew Douglas, and their lawyers, Larry Jackson and Alan Reynolds, who were representing them.

"You can sit, Detective," Curtis told him.

"I'd rather stand...thanks," he said as an after-thought.

Bobby took his time studying the men in the room. The lawyers were being paid very well. They wore Brooks Brother's suits and silk ties; Jackson had a gold wedding ring and a gold plated tie clip. Reynolds had no ring but he would rub at his left ring finger occasionally and his tie clip was the American Flag with 9/11/01 across it. "You lost someone, in the towers."

Reynolds blinked back and stared at him in surprise. "How...?"

"Your wife?"

Reynolds strict stone-faced facade slipped as he nodded. "Second tower."

Bobby looked at his feet before saying, "Sorry." And he truly was sorry.

The silence in the room was suddenly engulfing as that short conversation set everyone back.

After a long moment of tension and uncertainty, Douglas cleared his throat. "Can we get on with it, please? I've got things to do."

The irritation and coldness in his voice spoke volumes to Bobby; apparently Douglas didn't care about other people's feelings. He set his focus on him as he half paid attention to the questions Alex started to ask.

Douglas was a tall man, about 6'2'', and his black hair was slicked back. His face was tan and it held no worry-lines, scars or any other marks. His suit was tailored, fitting the slim man perfectly and he could tell that he worked out from the width of his arms and shoulders. And his nails, they looked manicured. Douglas took great pride in his appearance, nothing was anything less than perfect.

"Had Miss Jameson been to talk to you anytime in the last two months?"

Douglas gave Alex a polished smile, he answered, "We have never spoken to the Judge's daughter."

"But, you knew she was working for the prosecution," Bobby suddenly asked.

Douglas turned to him and after a moment, he smiled a cocky grin as he leaned back in the chair. "Okay."

"You've been to her apartment," he asked; it was a shot in the dark to gage the man's reaction.

Douglas didn't falter. "Why would I?"

Bobby wasn't about to back out of his bluff just yet; his gut was telling him that he had the guy. He just needed to prove it. "What if I told you we have a security footage of you there?"

"You don't," Douglas quickly shot back, "or else you'll have a warrant, now wouldn't you?"

_Tou-fucking-ch__è_. Bobby gave a cocky smile right back at the guy as he crossed his arms together behind his back. "There's no reason to be defensive. If Miss Jameson was investigating the case, and she was seeking information, you would have every right to be at her apartment, right? To talk, or help her in anyway possible. If that was what happened, there's no reason to deny it."

"But, I didn't."

Bobby didn't let his smile slip as he looked down at Alex; she was following his act as she knowingly smiled back at him.

"Mr. Douglas," Alex picked right up where he left off, "you don't have to lie. Forensics can do amazing things, like..."

"Getting fingerprints off the tiniest, round, buttons," Bobby finished. They knew that the building Annabelle lived in, no one could get in without being buzzed in. So, he had to have pressed the button for her apartment.

Bobby watched as Douglas arrogance slipped, but just slightly as his smile dropped. Before anything else could be said, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. It wasn't loud enough to be heard, but it distracted him long enough for the moment to be gone.

"Detectives," Jackson spoke with a finality. "This meeting is over. If you want to speak to my clients again, it'll be only _after_ you present a warrant."

Bobby stared at the caller ID and groaned at the person who had interrupted him. Shaking his head in frustration, he left the conference room with Alex leading the way.

"Who called?"

"My mother," he simply told her as they got onto the elevator.

* * *

_Alex Eames' Apartment_

Bobby lowered the heat on the chicken and then stirred the Alfred sauce into the pan with the fettuccine noodles. Alex nudged him a little as she took two wine glasses down and filled them halfway with the bottle of Riesling white wine Bobby had left there a few weeks ago.

He watched her set the bottle down and then waited until she lifted the glass up to her lips before he nudged her back. She shot him a look, making him grin as he added the chicken strips to the pot with the noodles.

"That wasn't funny," she scolded him.

"Yeah it was," he mumbled back while he stirred everything together around the pot. "Is the garlic bread ready?"

She grabbed the cookie sheet that held the garlic bread off the counter and handed it to him. "How come whenever you cook for me its Italian food?"

Bobby shut the oven and set the timer as he said, "Maybe because it's the only thing I'm good at making, besides Chili, which you don't like."

"That's 'cause you put stuff in it I don't like, like jalapenos."

Bobby couldn't resist taking her by the hips and pulling her closer to him. "I'll leave them out next time."

Alex smiled slightly as she ran her hands up his black T-shirt and around his neck. "I still won't eat it."

Bobby chuckled before kissing her deeply, letting his tongue taste the warmth of her mouth before reluctantly pulling back. "Hmm, even though I love Italian food, I'd rather be eating you."

"As flattering as that is, I just want the Italian food."

Bobby groaned and turned off the timer that beeping at him. "You're so mean."

"Don't forget the Parmesan cheese," she told him as she went over to her kitchen table and started clearing it of the notes and files they had scattered over it.

They ate while they went over the two cases they were working. Alex had agreed that Douglas was looking good as a suspect and they were trying to come up with ways to get to him. There wasn't much they could say about the SVU case seeing how they were at a standstill until they had more information.

Bobby fell silent as he looked up from his second glass of wine at Alex who was just finishing eating. He'd been done for at least five minutes before her. He had been waiting to ask her a question ever since leaving work but was afraid to speak it until now. "Um, Alex..."

She sat back in the chair and raised a brow at him as she sipped on her wine, indicating for him to continue.

He shifted in chair at that look as he fingered the stem of the wineglass. Taking a calming breath, he continued, "Uh, back at the SVU department, when you got mad at me...um, I was wondering...why had you gotten so mad, at me." It didn't sound like a bad question, but he was still scared about asking because he didn't know how she would respond.

Alex was eyeing him with confusion as she pondered the same thought. "You were afraid to ask me that?"

Bobby frowned as he waited for an answer. Was she evading the question?

Alex recognized his irritation and sat forward in the chair and leaned on the table. "Bobby, I told you why at the department; it was uncalled for and rude."

Bobby nodded a little, but he was still confused. "It's just...I do that all the time, it's the way I am and you've never had a problem with it before."

"Yes, I have, but I just ignore it because you usually do it to suspects or hostile witnesses, people I'm not looking to form friendships with."

"You want to be their friend?"

Alex shook her head at his oblivious nature to such things as forming bonds. "Why not? I like them, they're good cops and when..." she faltered as she stared hard at him; her face was slipping as she tried to control her emotions. "When you were taken, they were there for me. Bobby, I know you and Stabler can't be in the same room together without having a pissing contest, but he was busting his ass trying to find you. I mean, he went from hitting you one day to going to bat for you against a Judge the next. And Benson has done nothing but try and be on good terms with us."

"I was trying to be nice, he was the one that-that second-guessed me and told me that he didn't trust my profile."

Alex wanted to laugh. "Jesus Christ, Goren, the one person who had the nerve to contradict _you_ and you attacked him."

"Attack? I didn't-"

"Maybe not with your fists, but with your words."

Bobby stared into Alex's stern eyes for a long moment before closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead. "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

He opened his eyes to be staring into her pleading ones. Bobby loved Alex's caramel colored eyes, but to see her looking at him like that always broke his resilience. "I'll...try to be, nicer."

Alex didn't look convinced but she nodded anyway.

"I mean it," he seriously told her. "If you want to be friends with them, then...I'll back you up, Alex."

She didn't say anything for such a long time that Bobby was starting to get nervous. He needed to know what she was thinking behind those stunned yet contemplated eyes. Draining his glass, he went to stand when she was up and kissing him so hard he nearly fell backwards out of the chair. The bruising kiss was so intense that when it ended he couldn't breathe, or barely form a thought.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips before picking up her plate and empty glass and headed to the sink.

Bobby sat confused until he could think straight again, and then the only thing he could say was "You're welcome."

TBC...


	5. Thursday, October 7, 2004

**A/N: Thanks again for the wonderful reviews!!**

**Enjoy! This chapter is Rated M.**

* * *

_Alex Eames' Apartment_

_He could feel her rubbing against his fingers and palm; the warm skin, tensing muscles, and rippling goosebumps as he barely teases her skin. A soft pleasurable sigh escapes her trembling red lips as he enters her. The feel was like nothing else he'd felt; it was breathtaking. _

_Heat is building within him as they mend into one, and after hard, fast thrashing as they fight each other for dominance, they settle into a rhythmic rocking as he thrusts into her over and over again._

_The room darkens and he can't see them together anymore. He stumbles aground aimlessly as he tries to find his way back. Reaching out, he runs his fingers that still tingled from her touch over a cold brick wall. It was all around him. He was trapped again. Rage flared in his chest as he started beating against the wall with his fists over and over until blood smeared the wall and dripped into a pool at his feet. _

_Laughter filled the darkness and he nearly froze at the voice. Jared was mocking him, laughing at his feeble attempts at getting out. Jared stepped out of a dark corner, looking exactly the way he had when he had interrogated him a few years ago. A sinister smile spread over his thin face, making him shiver. _

_He was getting so cold; his bare feet felt frozen to the concrete floor he was standing on. When he turned away, back to the wall he'd been punching, he saw that it was no longer there, but instead, he saw a stream of water leading down the basement and outside. Wanting to get far away from that man as possible, he started running, following the water out into dense dark woods. He couldn't see more than a foot in front of him as he dodged branches and tore through bushes, cutting up his legs and feet as he did so. _

_A clearing appeared and he stopped. Everything stopped. He stared in shock and disbelief at what he saw in front of him. It was the bridge over the Bronx River, and there was a body under it, lying next to the bank. He slowly made his way towards it as he held his breath. Getting closer, the light from the moon crept under the bridge, closer to the body. Collapsing to his knees, he rolled the person toward him._

_It was Alex._

_Blood rushed out of his body as he paled. His hand shook as he felt her cool, damp skin on her neck. There was no pulse, nothing. Her body had been cut up, slashes everywhere but no blood was coming out. There was no blood left in her. Staring down into her empty black eyes, he felt the tears running down his face, dropping onto hers. A deep, strangled cry echoed through the air as he buried his head against her neck and felt his own soul leave his body. _

He was trembling, sweat coated his back, neck, and chest as he fought against the heavy blanket that seemed to be engulfing him. Jerking to his left, he pushed himself up as his eyes snapped open. He was staring down at his pillow, having pushed himself up on his forearms. Taking a tentative look around the bedroom that was pitch black, it took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. Light from the streetlamp out on the porch streamed through the blinds and he could make out the dresser next to the bed, the rocking chair that Alex liked to sit in at night when she read, and there, next to him in the bed, was her.

Letting out a rush of air, he collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes against the pillow. The hated nightmares, but that was the worst one yet. He could deal with them if it had just involved him, but seeing Alex in his dream and in that way, it had shook him to his core. It was petrifying.

He rolled onto his back and blinked up at the ceiling as he took a moment to calm his still shaking body. It was cold in the apartment with the central air blowing through the vents. It was October, what in hell was the air doing on anyway? Running a hand over his face and through his hair that was a little damp from the sweat, he finally urged the will to roll over and get out of bed.

It wasn't like he could go right back to sleep after a nightmare like that. Picking up his clothes that was scattered over the floor; he tossed them into the laundry basket. Pulling out a pair of boxers and flannel pajama pants out of the bottom drawer of Alex's dresser, he slipped them on and left the bedroom.

He closed his eyes as he flicked on the light to the bathroom, knowing it would do nothing but blind him, and then slowly opening his eyes until it was easy to see. The reflection in the mirror made him grimaced. He was looking terrible. The five o'clock shadow he had yesterday was getting thicker and rougher, and his eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under his eyelids.

Feeling the exhaustion in his body starting to weigh heavily on him, he steadied himself over the sink as his head fell against the mirror. His body wanted sleep, but his mind wouldn't shut-up. Images from the nightmare still lingered and he was suddenly thinking about the serial rape case and Carla Adams and the latest victim. The interview that he had had with Douglas, the man suspected in the murder of Annabelle Jameson, was replaying in his head and he cursed again his mother calling and interrupting. That thought brought back the phone call to his mother when he had gotten off work.

_He could tell that she was pacing as she talked to him without taking a breath. _

"_...and-and-and then the doctor came in and he was, uh, was, uh, trying to gather information, saying it was for the new talk therapy treatment. Like he thinks I believe that, I know what's really going on here. I know because I can hear them at night, talking and-and-and, it comes through the walls, Bobby. Their voices and the words appear in the books, and I read them and it tells me the truth! I can't stay here. If-if Frank knew about this, he'll get me out."_

_Her medication wasn't working. _

_Bobby rubbed at his head as he stared at the files he had copied on the serial case and felt his patience starting to slip. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his mother down. "Mom, listen to me, okay. I know that you're scared, and I know that you think that you're not safe, but you are. The medication, it's not working, mom. And I'm sorry that the voices are bothering you more today, but they aren't real. You know that."_

_There was silence on the line before her voice mumbled, "Oh, that's right. I forgot."_

_Bobby shook his head and sighed. "That's okay. I know that it's hard, sometimes, to believe that what you're seeing and hearing isn't true. Now, call the nurse, and tell her...mom, tell her that the voices are getting louder and you can't sleep. She'll give you something so you can sleep. I'll talk to your doctor in the morning, about--"_

_"Why are you talking to me like I'm a child? Don't be patronizing, I'm your mother. You don't have to explain everything to me like I'm an idiot."_

_"I didn't..." he stopped himself for responding to that. "You're right, I was being patronizing. Call the nurse, I'll make me feel better and not worry if, if I know that you're getting your sleep, mom."_

_"Okay, okay, I'll call the nurse."_

_"Thank you." He was about to say something else when he heard the dial tone in his ear. She didn't even bother to tell him 'bye'. _

Bobby turned on the hot and cold water and felt it with his hand. Once it was at the desired warmth, he stuck his head under the running water. Feeling the heat spreading over his head and neck, he was finally relieved of the coldness that attacked him when he had been asleep. The pounding of the water also helped to drown out the continuous noises of thoughts running through his head.

He needed a drink.

That thought brought his head up as he turned off the water. Grabbing a clean towel out of the cabinet that was built into the wall by the sink. He dried his head and left the towel draped around his shoulders as he went down the short hall and into the kitchen.

Alex's kitchen was a lot smaller than his, but it had a cozy feeling to it; the whole house felt that way, small yet cozy, like a home should feel. The refrigerator held pictures of her with her twin nieces, Amy and Amber, and her nephew, Nathan. Pictures of Nathan nearly dominated the ones of her nieces, but he understood why. He held a very special place in her heart and soul and she felt that even though he was her nephew, he also felt like her son. Bobby smiled at all of the pictures before opening the door and taking out a bottle of Corona that Alex liked.

He could barely stand the drink, but he didn't want to consume anything stronger when he had to be at work in four hours. Rummaging around in the cabinets, he didn't find anything appealing to snack on so he left the kitchen and wandered around the living room while he took small sips from the bottle.

Polly, her Parakeet, started chirping and singing at the sight of him in the room.

He raised a finger to the bird. "Shhh, Polly, you're gonna wake up Alex," he softly spoke to the bird.

Polly didn't care, it kept singing.

Bobby took a bigger drink from the bottle as he stopped in front of the bookshelves. She didn't have nearly as many books as he did, but she was well versed in her selection. A lot were fiction, crime novels and the classics, and some were books from the Police Academy. She had a worn copy of 'To Kill a Mockingbird' along with a newer copy of it; it was her favorite.

Photos were randomly placed on the shelves and they were all of her family. He knew everyone of them by name, but he yet to actually meet any of them. Pictures of Nathan naturally started to take over all the empty spaces, but she still had pictures of all her family displayed.

Her father, John, and mother, Emily, were with her in one photo that was taken after her graduation from the Academy. Her oldest sister, Angie, and her husband, Mike, were in another with the little five-year-old twin girls. Mike was still dressed in his Navy uniform, having just gotten back from serving on the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan.

In another, her older brother Richard was with her at his side and it looked like they were at a cookout at his firehouse. Alex among all those firemen sparked a protective urge in him and he shook it away. It was just a fucking picture. Then there was one with her sister Liz, where they were hugging each other and laughing while Terry, Liz's husband, stood in the background with John. The sisters, who were only separated in age by a little over a year with Alex being the youngest, looked nearly identical except Liz was a little taller and she looked more like their mother with her hazel eyes.

Richard had two teenagers, Heather and Eric, and they were in a picture with their mom, Melissa, who was smiling proudly like any mother should when it came to her children. The kids weren't smiling because they were too busy looking pissed off at the world in their neatly pressed private school uniforms. The last one was a photo of Alex, her parents, and her younger brother John Jr. after his graduation from the Academy. In that one, she seemed prouder and happier than their parents did.

She had so many people that loved her. He felt a smile pull at his lips at her family and he hoped that she realized how damn lucky she was.

There were no photos of her and Joe on the shelves. She kept one of their wedding pictures in the bedroom. All the other pictures were in a picture album that was sitting on the bottom shelf with all the other family albums.

Turning away from the shelves, he strolled up to the birdcage and stared down at it, smirking. Polly jumped from the perch on the swing to the cage bars and kept chirping happily at him. "You don't sleep, much, do you Polly?"

The bird started flapping its wings and flew back to the swing.

Moving away from the cage, he walked pass the loveseat and couch. She had the furniture for years, ever since she moved out of her parent's house when she was eighteen. Both pieces had been given to her by one of her aunts...He couldn't remember her name. He let his hand trail over the quilt on the back of the couch as he rounded it. The quilt was a Christmas gift from her husband Joe, a year before he passed away.

It smelled like Alex and it was warm, he liked it. Taking it with him, he tossed the towel that he had forgotten about, on the back of the couch and then opened the front door.

The streets of Rockaway were nothing like the rest of New York. It was quiet. He couldn't hear anything and he liked it that way. Wrapping himself in the quilt, he sat on the top step and tried to hear the Atlantic Ocean. He could smell it, and then, he finally heard the waves faintly in the distance. He wasn't that far from Rockaway Beach, only a few streets separated him from it.

Bobby suddenly shook his head at the information that entered his head. _Rockaway Beach was once known as the "Irish Riviera" because of the large Irish American population in the area. _Like he really needed to be thinking that right then. Alex was half-Irish, so was Joe, and they had lived there.

Taking a bigger gulp of the Corona, he tried to stop thinking but he knew that was a losing battle. He rubbed at his head as he tried to center his focus on the sounds in the distance and the smell of the water and the feel of the cool air on his face and bare feet. He should have put socks on or at least slipped his shoes on, but he wasn't thinking about that when he left the house.

He was thinking about Alex and her family and Joe and Carla and Annabelle and his own mother and how he couldn't remember the last time he saw or even spoke to his brother Frank. Two years. It had been two years since he saw Frank, seven months since he talked to him on the phone. Their conversation lasted a grand total of three minutes.

The thought of meeting Alex's family terrified him. There was no question about his feelings toward the days to come, he was scared. He had never had to officially meet anyone's family before. When he was a teenager, his girlfriend lived in the same building as him and her parents already knew who he was. There was no meeting them and having to explain anything. They knew what they needed to know and that was it. He just came and went in there house when he picked Julia up and dropped her off.

When he was in the Army, he had dated a Turkish woman, Aysel. He had met her three brothers when he had went with her on a weekend trip to Hungary. As soon as her brothers found out he was an American soldier things got real interesting real fast. He didn't remember all that was said, but he remembered how hard they could hit him in the face. The twelve hour drive back to Germany had been the last time he saw her because he had to go to Japan for eight months afterwards.

Then, that was it. That was the last time he had met any of his girlfriends families. It wasn't that he had a lot of bad experiences meeting families, he just didn't fully understand the importance or the point of it. Maybe if they were getting married then he could see the point in it, but they weren't.

He had no experience with family parties or cookouts. The closet he came was Sunday dinner at his grandparents before they got too sick, and before he left the church. His time with Declan and his daughter, that wasn't normal neither. They spent all their time, no matter where they were or what they were doing, talking about profiling and murderers.

If he wasn't with people who didn't contribute to learning something new about a case or the hobbies that interested him, he didn't want to waste his time being around them...

And oh God...

"I'm being a selfish bastard," he whispered to himself as he stared down at the steps below him.

It was so easy for him to think about no one but himself since he had been alone for most of his life. The only things that he wasn't selfish with was his job, his mother, and maybe Alex now, but it had taken him over a year to even include her. How depressingly horrible was that?

How pathetic was he?

Bobby stared at the empty bottle of Corona and shook his head. "This is all your fault, got me thinking..." he trailed off as he heard the front door open.

Alex poked her head out and frowned. "Been looking for you."

"Well, you found me."

Alex was wrapped in her huge white down comforter that completely engulfed her whole body. She slowly shuffled out of the doorway toward him.

Bobby chuckled at the sight of her trying to walk without falling over. "C'mere, baby," he said as he grabbed a hold of her and brought her down to his lap. The quilt that had been around his shoulders slipped down his back to the stoop.

"Baby?" Alex asked as she smiled. "You've never called me that before."

"I just might now," he told her before kissing her deeply.

Alex looked shocked once he ended the kiss. "You kissed me, outside?"

Bobby made a show at looking around before saying, "I think there's no one watching us. As far as streets go, this one is pretty much as private as you can get."

Alex caught sight of the bottle of Corona in sitting next to him and asked, "Are you drunk?"

Bobby smiled as he shook his head. "No, just...I might be sleep-talking for all I know. Been awake for a while."

"Then, lets go to bed. I woke up freezing my ass off 'cause you were gone."

Bobby slipped his hand between the edges of the comforter and felt her warm skin against his palm. "No wonder, Alex, you aren't wearing any clothes," he whispered into her ear before kissing the side of his face and down to her neck.

"Whoa there, big boy," she chuckled as she moved her head away. "This street may be quiet, but I'm not going any further until we're inside."

Bobby gave a nod and went to standup as he wrapped his arms around her and brought her up with him. "You're right, I don't want your screaming waking up the neighbors."

* * *

The sight of them together was going to make him sick. He had watched the big man come out of her place, in nothing but a pair of pajamas and a quilt on around his body. To say he was surprised to see a man there was an understatement, but to see that man there, that was a shock. He had watched them earlier, at the river. They were partners.

And being together, they were breaking the rules.

_She _was breaking the rules. And that excited him.

When he had spotted her coming out, wrapped in a blanket, he felt his heart beat faster as he focused solely onto her. The cop bitch was screwing her partner. And they had the audacity to be out in the open, showing it off to whoever was passing, or watching.

And then, seeing him kissing her, putting his hand on her under the blanket, his fists clenched as his nails dug into his palm. He was claiming what should be his.

He was taking what _was_ his.

Yes, she would be a fighter. She would be the best kill.

* * *

_ADA Ronald Carver's Office_

_One Hogan Plaza_

"He admitted to knowing that Miss Jameson was working with the Prosecution."

"That not probable cause for a material witness warrant, Detective."

"He knows more than what he's telling us; there's valuable information pertaining to the case that he knows and you're going to let him hide behind his lawyer."

"I'm not letting him hide, I'm letting him have his rights. You haven't given me any reason to question Mr. Douglas's knowledge about the murder. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

Bobby looked over at Alex who shook her head, telling him that it wasn't going to happen. He sighed heavily and pushed himself out of the chair. "Okay, well," he was saying as he started for the door, "since he's not a witness and we have no reason to consider him a suspect, then I'll have no problem just talking to him, right?"

"Detective," Carver said it like he was scrutinizing a child.

Bobby held the door open for Alex and let her leave the Assistant District Attorney's office first, before following her out.

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

"Got the photos from the autopsy," Olivia said as she stopped beside his desk and tossed the file folder down. "And we got a hit from Missing Persons; her name is Stella Coles and she was a Personal Trainer at the NYC Gym on 16th and Madison."

"That's the gym the we can use for a discounted price, right?"

"Yep, anyone carrying a badge or works for the FDNY can get a discount there."

Elliot eyed the file before turning away from the computer and opened it. The photos were of the woman's neck, close-ups of the knife wounds and the gunshot wound to her head, and full body shots. "There's some kind of abrasion on her neck."

"Yeah, that's new. He used something to strangle her with; it wasn't enough force to kill her, but I'm guessing she went unconscious a few times."

"And he brought her back to torture her more," he said as he shifted through the pictures. "Forensics know anything about the knife that did this?"

"No, they've never seen anything like it before." Olivia was quiet for a moment before she asked, "Dr. Huang on his way over?"

He put the photos back in the folder and tossed it onto her desk. Leaning back in the chair, Elliot eyed her as he nodded. "Shouldn't he be?"

Olivia shrugged nonchalantly as she started filling out a form. "I don't see any point, but that's me."

Elliot groaned and leaned forward. "You don't want an expert opinion?"

Olivia looked up at him at that and said simply, "We got one."

"From Goren."

"Yes," she said sounding strict, "from Goren. You know, you were okay with him before; it almost seemed that you guys could actually get along."

"Yeah, well, that was when he was a victim."

"So, everyone has to be a victim for you to like them?"

Elliot was getting frustrated. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he nearly growled before he got up to greet Dr. Huang who appeared in the doorway. "Dr. Huang, glad you could make it."

"I understand you guys have a serial predator?" Huang asked as he shook his hand.

Elliot lead him over to the clear whiteboard; stopping in front of it, he placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. "Twenty rapes and murders in the last thirty years. We have a witness to what we believe was his first murder; our killer started doing this when he was a teenager."

"This," Huang pointed to the profile in the right hand column. "Who did this?"

He glanced over at him and then looked at Olivia as he said, "One of the Major Case Squad detectives, Detective Goren."

Huang looked over at him and smiled, "I'll like to meet him; this profile, it's..."

Elliot crossed his arms and eyed Huang. "Good?"

"Exceptional, actually. As long as you have him, you won't be needing my assistance, Detective."

Elliot shook his head and stepped away from the FBI Forensic Psychiatrist. "Just great."

* * *

Stabler was the first person Bobby spotted as he entered to SVU department. The detective was rubbing at his head while he leaned on top of his desk and flipping through a stack of photographs. He stopped next to the desk and leaned down a little to get a closer view of the pictures. "Those from the autopsy?"

Stabler stilled and slowly turned his head toward his. "Does personal space mean anything to you?"

Bobby eyed him for a moment before straightening and taking a small step back. "Uh, better?"

"No," Stabler snapped as he straightened as well and closed the file. As he walked pass him, he stuck the folder into his chest. "And yes, they are the autopsy photos."

Bobby grabbed the file before it fell once Stabler let go of it. He watched him walk away and wondered why he was also so pissed off at him. Never knowing when to let the curious side of his nature go, he followed Stabler across the room and to the table where the coffee stuff was set up on.

Stabler saw him coming and rounded on him, crossing his arms over his chest and staring him down.

Bobby didn't stop a few feet away like any normal person would; he stepped right up to Stabler and bent his head down a little so he was looking up at the detective instead of straight into his eyes. "I just wanted to say that...you were being cautious."

Stabler's eyes narrowed a little. "What?"

With not quite knowing what to say, and not feeling comfortable saying anything at all, Bobby shifted his weight back-and-forth from one leg to another. "Yesterday, you were being cautious...I get that. Dr. Huang is an expert, and you're, uh...used to his...his, uh, explanations. You, trust him."

Stabler looked like he was surprised at what he was telling him.

Bobby was just as surprised. "Anyway..." he went leave but stopped before he could completely turn away. "If...if you could trust my explanations, it'd, uh, it'd probably make this a lot easier."

Stabler eased up to him, and without losing any of his hostility, he asked, "Do you know why I don't trust you, or your _explanations_?"

Bobby shook his head a little as he gave a soft "No."

"There have been some cases recently that has me trusting whose side you're on."

Bobby frowned at what he had just said. "Whose side I'm on?"

Stabler nodded as he said, "Yeah. How do I know that when we catch this guy, you aren't going to try and get him a deal, or a reduced sentence..."

"What are you talking about?"

"John Tagman."

Bobby stilled as his eyes widened a little. He was bringing up Tagman?

"He was a cannibal, a murderer. Or how about Tim Landy? That man victimized you, and you still went to bat for him and got him a deal after his mind was sane enough for him to stand trial."

Bobby didn't feel like defending; he didn't have to defend himself, he knew his reasons. "Look, Stabler, Landy's my business, not yours."

"I worked that case, I invested myself into finding you and putting that man away. It is my business."

Bobby didn't feel like arguing the point, knowing it was a waste of time. "Okay, I understand that. As for Tagman, it doesn't matter what you think I did or why, I had my reasons and they were always on the side of justice, and doing what was best for--"

"Tagman, 'cause if you were thinking about any of the victims, or their families, he would have gotten the death penalty."

Bobby had risen himself up to his full height and was actually looking down at Stabler now. He felt the urge to hit the man, but he wasn't a violent person, not anymore. Pushing the anger down, he shook his head. "You know what, I tried with you. I really did, but I see now that...that I shouldn't have bothered."

"Took you that long, Detective?"

Bobby felt the anger course through him again, so he kept his hands clenched at his sides as he finally turned away, shaking his head.

Alex was watching him as he walked over to where she was standing with Benson and who he presumed was Dr. Huang. "What's wrong?"

Bobby shook his head, indicting 'not now' as he extended his hand to the man he didn't know. "Dr. Huang?"

Huang shook his hand with a smile as he pointed over his shoulder to the board. "That's yours?"

Bobby nodded a little as he handed the file folder that held the autopsy photos to Alex.

"Who did you study under?"

Bobby shifted his eyes from Dr. Huang to the board and back as he told him, "Declan Gage."

Huang was surprised and confused by that as he said, "I didn't know he taught--"

"He didn't," Bobby answered before Huang could finish. Not wanting to discuss Declan any longer because he knew what some people with the FBI thought of him, he quickly turned to Benson and asked, "Have you talked to the victims families yet?"

"We've talked to a few of them. The older victims, there hasn't been hardly anyone that remembers or with some, they don't have any family still alive or living in New York. The latest victim, she was identified as Stella Cole, she was a Personal Trainer at the NYC Gym on 16th and Madison."

"I go there sometimes," Alex announced, startled.

Bobby looked down at her and said as calmly as possible, "Not anymore."

"Me and Elliot will take her house while you guys go talk to her family and friends."

Bobby wanted to search the victim's house, but this was SVU's case, so he meekly nodded and left the department feeling a little more than disappointed.

"Stop it."

"What?"

Alex looked over at him as she rounded the SUV to the driver's side. "You're sulking. We might learn a lot from her family and friends."

* * *

_Home of David & Ashley Cole_

_SoHo, Manhattan_

Bobby helped Ashley Cole, the mother of Stella, to the sofa as they both sat down on it. Alex sat on the love seat across from them as they both watched the woman break down in tears. He continued to hold her hand as he looked over to Alex who was waiting just as patiently as he was.

Alex smiled warmly at him as she took hold of the grieving mother's left hand.

They knew better than to speak before the woman was ready, so they waited until she had regained her composer and took a couple of deep, shaky breaths before they talked.

"I'm sorry," Ashley told them as she wiped her eyes.

Bobby leaned forward on his knees so she could see his face as he told her, "There's no need for an apology, Mrs. Cole."

Ashley smiled at sweetly at him. "You're making me sound old, I'm your age. Call me Ashley."

Bobby smiled back at her as he corrected himself, "Ashley, you just lost your daughter. If you want to do this some other time, we can leave."

"No, it's fine. It's been seven days, a whole week, since I last heard from her. I was hoping that...that she was okay," her voice broke again as the tears fell freely and uncontrolled down her face. "I want to help. I don't know how, but..."

Alex let go of the woman's hand as she asked, "Did she have a boyfriend?"

She shook her head. "No, she has an ex, Scott. He's, he works at the gym too."

Bobby felt the woman's hand tighten on his as she answered that question. "Did she had a, uh, a reason for breaking up with him?"

Ashley looked over at him and nodded. "She said he cheated."

Bobby felt the mother's anger as he slowly nodded. "Was he ever, controlling, or abusive?"

"No, not that I know of. Stella would've told me if he was. She tells me everything."

Bobby wanted to believe that, but he knew that children, no matter their age, never told their parents _everything_. "When you filed the Missing Person's Report, you said...there was a mention in there about Stella saying that she was feeling, unsafe. What was that about?"

Ashley closed her eyes and rubbed at them as her hand tightened more in his. "She had told me that she thought someone was following her. There was a guy, at the gym, and she swore she saw him on the bus with her, and even at the diner she likes."

Bobby didn't mention the present tense she used when talking about her daughter, she wasn't ready to accept that fact that she was gone yet. "She was being stalked?" He looked over at Alex and saw her frown deeply.

This was just getting worse.

Ashley nodded. "I should've..." she started to shake as a new wave of grief hit her.

Bobby knew that was all they were going to get from her today. He gave her his card and told her to call if she remembered anything else or if she wanted to talk, and then followed Alex out of the brownstone.

"He stalks them first."

Bobby pulled out his cell phone as he wordlessly agreed. In a few rings, he heard Benson answer. "Detective Benson, it's Goren."

"Got anything?"

"Yeah, we have reason to believe that the victim was being stalked." Bobby slid into the passenger seat of the SUV as Alex started it up.

"I'll see if we can find anything here to confirm it. Maybe the bastard left something in her voice mail or sent her mail."

"Okay, if you find anything..."

"I'll call. Later."

Bobby flipped the phone shut and rubbed at his head. He knew that it was a possibility of the killer was stalking the women first, but to have it confirmed shook him. This guy was a hunter, and he had a day head-start on them. Whoever he was hunting now, in five days she was going to be taken.

"You hungry?"

He opened his eyes and peered over at Alex as his head rested against the cold window. "No."

She smirked a little. "Me neither."

* * *

_Apartment of Matthew Douglas_

_Park Avenue, Manhattan_

He leaned back against the concrete wall as stared up at the dark gray night sky. Everything that he had learned about the serial case was spinning in his head as he waited for the resident of one of the apartments in the building to show up. The killer was escalating in many ways, changing his M.O. at just about every turn. He was adding repeated strangulation to his methodology, as well as stripping the woman of their clothes and leaving them exposed out in the open.

They had yet to identify what he was using to strangle the victims, nor had they identified the knife used. Bobby knew that those pieces of the puzzle was critical in solving the case. It was frustrating yet exciting when he was given a puzzle to solve. Frustrating because more women were being killed, and exciting because he got to figure out who and why.

"Why these women?" he softly asked himself as he watched a cloud part. He couldn't see the stars visible in the city sky.

"Detective?"

Bobby slid his eyes away from the sky and down to the man who was at the bottom of the stairs. "Mr. Douglas."

Douglas didn't move to come up the steps as he looked around the sidewalk and streets. "What are you doing here?"

Bobby shrugged as he stepped down a step. "Just, walking by. Do you live here?" he asked like he didn't already know the answer.

Douglas wasn't amused. He was getting red in his cheeks as he squared his shoulders back. "You know damn well I do. Are you stalking me?"

Bobby looked shocked at that accusation. "_Stalking? _I'm a cop, I don't stalk." He stopped on the bottom step and didn't make a move to step off the stairs. "I have no reason to do that to you anyway. After all, you're not important enough for me to stalk. But, that's not saying that if I _happen_ to be somewhere and you just so happen to be there at the same time....I mean, can't I at least say 'hi'."

Douglas was fuming now as he tried to control his temper by pulling out his phone. "I'm calling my lawyer."

Bobby finally stepped onto the sidewalk and moved to the side. "Tell Mr. Jackson I said 'hello', and ask him about the First Amendment. I'm sure he's read about that." He then turned and walked away.

Halfway to the Subway, he pulled out his phone and called Alex.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"I, uh, I don't think he likes me."

Alex laughed slightly before saying, "Are you going back to the squad or should I heat up dinner for you?"

Bobby would have but he had told the captain he was actually leaving at a decent hour that night. "Neither, I've got a hot date," he teasingly told her.

"Uh-huh, tell Lewis I said 'hi'."

Bobby smiled into the phone as he descended the stairs that lead into the terminal. "I will, gotta go."

"Have fun, bye."

* * *

_Alex Eames' Apartment_

Bobby loved his car. He parked the Mustang behind Alex's car but it took him a moment to pry himself out of it. It had taken him almost two hours to get to her apartment because he chose to take the long way to Rockaway as he wanted to drive the car as much as possible, and he drove it slowly, obeying the speed limits all the way there. It was the best ride of his life.

Shutting the car door and setting the alarm, he kept his eye on it as he slowly made his way up the stairs and into the apartment. He wanted to keep driving, but it was getting really late and he needed sleep.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, he made his way through the dark rooms and down the short hallway into the bedroom. He couldn't see her in the bed, but he knew she was there. Her breathing was soft and deep, and she smelt like the L'Oreal conditioner she liked.

Bobby pulled his black T-shirt off and tossed it toward the closet where the laundry bin was before emptying his pockets on the dresser. Hearing a soft moan, he looked over his shoulder as Alex sat up in bed.

"It's late," she quietly told him.

He glanced at the clock; it was nearly two. "I couldn't stop driving."

She laughed softly as she laid back down. "Come to bed."

"Need a shower," he told her as he walked around the bed. Leaning down over top of her, he steadied himself on the bed with his arms as he pressed a tender kiss on her lips.

Alex wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until he was pressing her down into the mattress. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and it was his turn to moan as he wrapped his arms around her back, supporting his weight on his forearms so not to crush her. Her fingers trailed over his back, up to the nape of his neck, and then back down again. Her hand dipped lower, under the waistband of his pants causing him to thrust against her.

Pulling back a little, he released her lips only to return his kisses to her neck.

"You smell of engine grease and taste like beer."

Bobby stopped his tasting of her sensitive skin and went to get up. "I need to get cleaned up."

"I wasn't complaining."

Bobby stilled and stared down at her before chuckling. "Whatever turns you on, Eames."

She pressed her lips hard into his and brought him back down again. Suddenly, she flipped him over onto his back, straddling him, and pushed her tongue deeply into his mouth. He groaned in frustration at the sudden lose of her mouth as she sat up to pull off her tank top.

Bobby didn't mind the change in positions at all. Feeling her on top of him, her bare skin and breasts pressing into him, was causing him to lose his mind. His hands felt the toned muscles in her abdomen and around her ribs before he felt up her breasts. Alex smiled a little before she returned her mouth to his.

The constant movement of her hips against his was pushing at his nerves since his jeans was still on and she was wearing a pair of his basketball shorts that she had to pull tight against her hips to keep them on. His hands left the teasing massage of her breasts and nipples as he trailed feather light touches down her back and under the shorts to her butt. After squeezing a few times and hearing her moan and move her ass against his hands, he moved his left hand around to her center.

She was wet and warm, pulsing against his wandering fingers that teased at her center before pushing in.

Alex broke the kiss as she moaned. "Umm, Bobby, feels good."

He smiled at the pleasure he excited within her. Bending up, he kissed over her neck and down her chest, over his swollen breasts as she sat up, allowing his fingers to slip deeper into her. The jeans had to come off now, he was so hard it was starting to get painful. His right hand left the smooth skin of her butt as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. Alex had shifted to his side as she somehow slid off the oversized shorts without him having to remove his pumping fingers.

Once she was straddling him again, he thrusts his fingers one last time into her before pulling them out. She guided him to her as she lifted herself up against him, using his shoulders for support, and then slowly...God, too slowly, lowered herself around him.

"Um, ah, fuck," he breathed out as he dropped back to the bed at the feel of her wet, hot walls surrounding him. Bobby resisted the urge to buck up hard, knowing she liked to start it slow, as he closed his eyes and counted to from ten to one.

His hands mended and explored her body, hips, and thighs as she started riding him ever so slowly. Her head dropped back as her moans got deeper as her breathing grew faster.

Bobby had to bite his bottom lip to keep in a strangled moan as she pounded harder into him, she was getting closer. Grunting with frustration as she came up slowly, teasing him, he grabbed her hips and bucked up hard into her.

"Yes, faster, harder" she ordered him.

And he obeyed.

Sitting up and gripping her hips tight, he started pushing up into her harder and faster as she rocked faster on top of him. He had been so close to release for so long it didn't take long before he felt the heat spread through him as he tightened. Alex's rocking became more erratic as she was feeling the same need to give into the pleasure and ecstasy of release.

Bobby gritted his teeth as he held back until Alex's locked throat broke open with a loud scream as her body jerked into his. Feeling her walls tighten around him, he pushed deeply into her two more times before jerking to a stop and coming hard.

"Oh, Alex...Alex," was the only thing he could coherently get out of his trembling mouth as he collapsed against the bed with her on top of him.

She was panting hard and didn't move for a long time. Pulling the covers over them. He held her close as he caressed her back.

It wasn't long before his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

TBC...


	6. Friday, October 8, 2004

A/N: I"m glad so many people are enjoying my story, I really appreciate the reviews and everyone who's reading and favorites my story!

Also, if anyone was wondering what the Spyderco knife looks like, it is a real knife (that I don't own in any way). So, you all can look it up if you want. It's a wicked looking thing.

Enjoy!

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

Bobby was used to feeling tired, so the fact that he needed a shave, dark circles were making a permanent stay under his eyes, and he was moving a little slower than usual wasn't a big concern to him. Alex, on the other hand, kept asking if he was okay and telling him to take a break and bunk-out upstairs.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the ceiling as he tried to figure out a way to trip up Matt Douglas. They had just gotten out of a meeting with Captain Deakins and ADA Carver over his 'talk' with Douglas last night. Douglas's lawyer, Larry Jackson, wasn't very happy about getting the irate phone call at nine o'clock at night.

They couldn't get a warrant because they had nothing to go on except his gut instinct that Douglas was their killer. He needed to arrest him, but the how was what was tripping him up. Bobby sat up in the chair and grabbed the phone. In a couple of rings, a woman answered.

"Good morning, you've reached Mr. Douglas's office, this is Katherine Martin speaking, how my I help you?"

The secretary sounded nice, so Bobby smiled into the phone as he politely said, "Yes, this is Robert, I'm an associate of Mr. Douglas, is he in?"

"Not at the moment, he's in a meeting."

"And afterwards?"

"He has lunch for a hour, and then--"

"Excuse me, Miss Martin," he said as he put on his best, and softest, charming voice as he could generate, "I was hoping catch him before late this afternoon, I've got some information for him concerning the, um...the case, against the company. I was wondering if I could schedule a lunch with him. Is it possible for you to tell me where he'll be going or if he's ordering in?"

She was quiet for a moment and then, "He's eating out today. At the Green Terrence Lounge on 53rd and Lexington."

Bobby's smile grew as he told her, "Thank you. I appreciate it." And then hung up.

"Why are you looking so happy?"

He returned the smile to her as he watched her sit down across from him. "Don't ever underestimate the trusting nature of a sweet sounding secretary."

"Did that 'Goren' charm get you a date," she teased.

Bobby nearly laughed at that as he stood up. "It did, with Douglas this afternoon. We're having lunch at the Green Terrence Lounge, by the way."

"Oh joy, I get to dine with old rich men smoking cigars and complaining about their twenty year old wives cheating on them. _I wonder why_?"

Bobby shook his head but was smirking a little as he walked toward the break room. He needed a cup of coffee and whatever high-sugar snack bar they had in the machine in the hallway.

He was just rounding the corner with a hot cup of coffee in his hand and a bag of Skittles and Protein Bar in the other when he nearly collided with another detective. Bobby quickly jumped out of the way and blinked back at the man who had bumped into his left arm, causing the coffee to splash over the rim of the cup onto his hand. "Shit," he groaned at the hot burning sensation on his hand.

Detective Stone didn't even offer an apology as he told him, "Watch where you're going, Goren! You nearly got me wet!"

Bobby felt like snapping at the man but held his emotions in check as he mumbled an apology. Before he walked away, he stopped in his steps and turned back. "What are you doing here? I thought you transferred?"

Stone turned back to him; his cocky smile spread across his face as he told him, "I'm not surprised you didn't know, what with the way you ignore everyone you work with besides Alex."

Bobby held his tongue as his eyes narrowed. A year ago, before he returned to work, Stone had been Alex's temp. partner, and when he showed up at the squad to talk to Deakins, the detective had berated Alex right to his face in the break room. If it hadn't been for two fellow detectives, he would have put Stone's head through the wall.

"I was on a joint Task Force, doing some undercover work too," Stone continued, "but I'm back now. You better hurry to your partner now, Goren, she's waiting for her Skittles." And with that, he turned and continued down the hallway.

Bobby had the urge to chase after him and trip him down the stairwell, but he didn't have the energy nor the want to lose his job. He finally turned and headed down the hall; as soon as he approached his desk, he knew that Stone had stopped to talk to Alex.

She was staring intently at the file in front of her, chewing on a pen, and twisting the edge of the folder until it ripped. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath.

Bobby sat the coffee down on his desk and handed Alex her bag of Skittles as he took his seat. "So, Stone pissed you off too?"

Alex tore open the bag and popped a couple into her mouth as she rolled her eyes. "He's such a prick. He told me that the next time you go off the deep end, he'll love to be my partner again. As if I'll let that man anywhere near me."

"Maybe we should invite him to join in on the serial case. One word to Stabler and he'll be in the hospital for a month, maybe two if we're lucky."

Alex laughed hard at that. "Oh, God, can you imagine him and Stabler in the same room together? I bet after that, Elliot wouldn't mind you at all, heck, he might become your best friend."

Bobby took a big gulp of the coffee before asking, "Are we done here?"

Alex signed her name on the file she was reading. "Yep, let's get out of here before Stone returns."

Bobby grabbed the coffee and his binder and followed her out of the squad room. There main investigation was now the serial case, and they had to get over to the 16th Precinct.

* * *

_Special Victim's Unit_

Bobby shifted in the hard chair as he leaned forward, resting his head in the palm of his right hand that was propped up on his right knee. His left leg was bouncing uncontrollably as his left hand fidgeted with a mechanical pencil; his binder forgotten on the floor in front of him. He didn't know how long he was staring at the pictures of Stella Cole that was posted on the board, but his back was starting to hurt. Rubbing at his eyes, he tried to fight the burning sensation that was making it difficult to focus.

There was a noise at the door, looking up, Bobby saw Fin and Munch bringing in a little boy and girl. The children were a little dirty, their clothes old, and the boy had a few bruises on his face. Their blue eyes were timid as they both looked around the department. The little boy took the little girls hand and held onto it tightly as the detectives lead them into a room down the hall.

Bobby briefly wondered what that was about before returning to his study of the photos. The knife cuts weren't normal, meaning that they weren't made by a regular knife. One side of the knife was a smooth blade and the other side was...serrated. He knew that some hunting knives were made that way, but the database proved that the wounds weren't made by any hunting knife. There were also puncture points at the edges of the cuts. He didn't know if those were made by a different weapon or the same knife.

"We're gonna have to call Huang back, those kids aren't going to talk to us."

At Munch's voice, Bobby looked over at them and frowned in concern. He wondered what the deal was with those kids. Getting up, he stopped Fin and Munch and asked, "Uh, what's going on?"

Fin looked over at Munch first, who just shrugged a little, before answering, "There mom was assaulted today, nearly killed. We think they witnessed it, or at least the boy did."

"How's the mom?"

"She's in intensive care right now, but once she's better, they're gonna have to move her to the psychiatric wing."

Bobby nodded a little; he could understand that. "Because of the assault?" Fin suddenly didn't want to answer his question, and that worried him. He looked over to Munch who had no problem telling him.

"The mom's schizo."

_Oh. _Bobby looked over at Fin and saw his look; Fin wasn't the least bit happy that Munch had told him that. "Maybe..."

Fin shook his head at him. "I don't know; it was pretty bad, Bobby."

"So, I've lived through the bad. If there is anyone in this room right now that is more qualified than me to talk to them, then let them do it, but there isn't."

Fin finally gave in as he glared over at Munch again. "I guess there's no harm in you trying."

Bobby went over to where Alex was conversing with Benson over the interviews with the victims families and friends; they were looking at who else had mentioned stalking and how long it had been going on. He didn't have to say anything as he caught her eye and gestured his head away from where they were sitting.

Alex excused herself and followed him to an empty space by the stairs. "What's up?"

"Fin and Detective Munch brought in a couple of kids who've...um, they were witnesses to an assault on their mother. I was going to, you know, try and get them to open up."

Alex eyed him for a moment before calling him out. "And, what else?"

He sighed and rubbed at his head. "Their mother, she's...like my mom."

Alex's eyes widened at that but she quickly got over the shock. "Are you sure you want to talk to them?"

Bobby gave a slight nod as he said, "Yes."

"Okay," was her reply, but she gave him a warning look as she went over to Benson and told her what was going on.

Bobby followed Fin to the room and peered in through the door. To his surprise, Stabler was sitting at the small kids table with them.

"He talked to Munch while you were talking to Eames."

Bobby watched through the door as the kids didn't say a word to Stabler; the girl never looked up at him and the boy looked like he was close to throwing a temper tantrum.

Stabler got up and walked over to the door.

Bobby barely had time to get out of the way as Stabler opened the door and came out into the hallway.

Stabler took one look in his direction and tensed.

Bobby quickly looked away, into the room. "How'd it go?"

"They aren't talking," Stabler told him.

Bobby nodded as he looked back at him. He knew that Stabler was married and had kids, but he didn't know their names or ages, but he could guess that he was a good dad; well, as good as any dad could be with the job he had. "They, um, they don't need a...father, especially the boy. If you go in there, acting like a supportive father, he's...well, he's gonna not talk or get angry. He was getting angry."

Stabler was watching him closely before he looked back into the room. "Munch said that you said that you were qualified to talk to them. What'd that mean?"

Bobby took a weary glance at him as he went to open the door. "I used to be that boy," and with that, he opened the door and slipped quietly into the room, shutting the door behind him.

The kids didn't even acknowledge that he was there. Bobby stayed by the door and shifted around uncomfortably for a moment before he grabbed a chair that was too small for him, but he sat down in it anyway. Staying as far from them as possible, he looked down at the floor, waiting.

Taking a few glances up at the children, he noticed that the little girl was younger than the boy. She was coloring in a coloring book on the table while her older brother watched her. The boy wasn't going to let his sister out of his sight or out of his reach for anything. Every so often, the boy would glance in his direction, and every time he did, Bobby would look back at the floor.

After a couple of minutes, the boy finally asked, "Why are you in here?"

Bobby looked up into the boy's blue eyes as he smiled shyly. "I wanted to know if you wanted anything. There's a soda machine in the hallway, and a vending machine with chips and snacks in it too."

The boy looked over at his sister and said something so softly to her that Bobby couldn't hear it. "Okay," he said. "We want a Pepsi, and a candy bar."

Bobby smiled a little as he got up and opened the door. Stabler was out there watching along with Fin, Munch, Alex, and Benson. Blinking back and the people watching him, he shook his head and said, "We need a Pepsi and two candy bars."

"What kind?" Benson asked.

"Uh...hang on." Bobby closed the door and asked the boy. "What kind of candy bar?"

"Um..." he thought about it for a moment. "Any kind?"

Bobby opened the door back and told Benson, "Any will do. Oh, and get me a coke." He pulled out some money from his pocket and handed it to her. "Thanks." Closing the door, he sat back in the chair and continued to stare at the floor as he twisted his hands together as he wanted to do anything else but sit in that too small of a chair and stare at the floor.

It wasn't long before a soft knock interrupted his thinking. Getting up, he opened the door and took the can of Pepsi and Coke along with two Snickers bars and a couple of paper cups. He had forgotten the cups. "Uh, thanks," he told her as she shut the door.

Standing at the door, he glanced from the floor to the boy and back to the floor again, much like a child would do who wasn't sure if he allowed to enter a room or not.

The boy was watching him closely as he stood. Looking down at his sister, he said something to her and she nodded. "You can sit here, if you want," the boy said as he patted the chair next to him and the table.

Bobby slowly walked over to it and sat down. He handed the boy the Pepsi and the two cups. Placing the candy on the table, he leaned back in the chair a little. "This, it's way too small," he told the boy as he tried to get comfortable.

The boy smiled at his discomfort and let out a little laugh.

"I'm Bobby," he told the boy as he extended his hand for him to shake.

The boy eyed his hand before shaking it hard and fast. "I'm Tommy."

Bobby smiled right back. "Wanna see something, Tommy?"

Tommy seemed unsure but nodded anyway as he gave his sister a cup filled with the soda.

Bobby picked up one of the candy bars in his right hand. He placed his left hand over his right and rubbed his hands back-and-forth against each other. When he dropped his left hand, the candy bar was gone.

Both Tommy and his sister looked shocked before they started laughing.

Bobby chuckled at the amazement in their eyes before holding up a finger. "Just...watch." He slowly moved his left hand behind the Tommy's right ear, and with a practiced hand, slid the candy bar out of his sleeve and made it reappear.

Tommy was laughing hard as the girl giggled softly at him. Bobby gave the 'magic' candy bar to him and other one to the girl, which they took happily and started eating right away.

Bobby waited until they had finished the candy, and he was done with his Coke, before he talked again. He pointed to the picture the girl was coloring and asked, "What's that?"

She smiled as she picked up a crayon and started coloring again. "A puppy."

"Do you have a puppy?"

She shook her head as her expression turned sad. "No, but I wanna one."

Bobby smiled at the little girl before returning his attention to Tommy. He looked to be about ten while she looked to be around seven or eight. "I, uh, I heard, 'bout what happened."

Tommy glanced at him and frowned, but he didn't say anything.

Bobby knew that it this was going to be hard to talk about, and not just for him but for the boy as well. "Your sister, what's her name?"

Tommy stared at the table before looking up at him. "Kristy."

At the mention of her name, Kristy looked up at them and smiled widely before going back to coloring.

Bobby knew that the girl wasn't a witness to anything, she was too calm and there was no tension or worry coming from her. "You, protect her," he said to Tommy as he nodded toward his sister.

Tommy's jaw was tight as he nodded a little and played with his empty paper cup.

"My brother, he used to try, and um, protect me too."

Tommy's head snapped over to him as his eyes widened.

Bobby nodded a little, as if he was confirming the boy's suspicions. "My mom, she was..." he had no idea if the boy knew the name of the disease, so he opted for, "she was like your mom."

Tommy glanced around the room suddenly as he shifted in his chair. Leaning forward, closer to him, he asked, "Is she okay?"

Bobby didn't know who he was asking about, so he asked, "Is your mom okay?"

Tommy shook his head. "Your mom, she okay, now?"

Bobby felt the sorrow pull at his heart as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "No, she isn't. It...it doesn't go away, sometimes."

Tommy's frown deepened as he looked back at the table and fingered the Pepsi can. "She drinks a lot of these."

Bobby smiled a little. "My mom, when we didn't have sodas in the house, she would get the instant coffee and eat it right out of the jar with a spoon."

Tommy made a disgusted face and Bobby had to mimic it. "Gross."

Bobby chuckled a little as he leaned on top of the table, supporting his weight on his elbows. "Tell me about it, and she smoked a carton of cigarettes in two days. The place was constantly filled with smoke."

"My mom does that too. And she talks to the wall a lot, when she's not yelling at me."

"Those bruises," he eyed the green and yellow bruise on his left cheek and the one over his right eye. "She do that?"

Tommy looked over at Kristy; she was still coloring and starting to draw her own pictures on the page. "Yeah, I was trying to find a hiding spot for Kristy when she...she started getting mean again. I hit my head on the bed when I was crawling out of it, but the other one, she did. I'm okay. It didn't hurt."

Bobby realized that Tommy was one tough kid. "You're tough, but you have to be, you have your sister to watch over."

Tommy suddenly smiled with pride. "I do."

"I know it. She's...she doesn't have a scratch on her. I wasn't always so lucky when I was her age. I mean, my brother tried, but...it wasn't enough." Bobby watched as the girl changed colors and started drawing a dog house next to the dog. "Was she hidden when, when your mom was hurt?"

Tommy nodded as he told him. "I had too."

Had too? Bobby watched Tommy's hands as he gripped the can in his hand and squeezed it, trying to crush the can. "Had too...? Was your mom getting angry?"

Tommy shook his head 'no'.

Bobby tentatively looked at his face and noticed that he was fighting back tears. "Tommy, it's okay. You did the right thing, hiding her."

"I know," his voice nearly broke as he was losing his battle to fight back the tears.

Bobby felt his own heart break as he pushed down the urge to stop the questioning and leave. This was getting a lot harder, but he had to continue, he was getting closer to the answer he was searching for. Clearing his throat, he asked, "You had to protect her for a different reason? Like, for who hurt your mom?"

Tommy wiped furiously at his eyes and nose with the sleeve to his worn sweater. "He...he said that-that I had to let him in."

Bobby glanced away from the boy to the floor as he willed down his own tears that were burning his eyes. "Or else?" he asked as he glanced up.

Tommy was nodding.

"He, threatened your sister?"

Tommy nearly broke at that, but to his surprise, he didn't cry. "Before, he had...tried to hurt her, I got her away. He-he said next time, if-if I didn't let him in, he would. I was afraid, I didn't...My mom, she was in the kitchen and I didn't..." his tremble voice broke as the tears fell down his face. "It's my fault."

Bobby watched the boy start to cry and the only thing he could do was bury his own head into his hands as he fought back the emotions beating against his body, causing his throat to lock and eyes to water. After rubbing his face with his hands, he quickly pulled Tommy into a hug as the kid cried and shook. His control was nearly gone as he told the grieving boy, "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known, and you were brave in doing what you did to protect your sister. The man who did this, he's the one who's to blame. He's at fault, not you." The boy nodded a little into his chest as the tears started to dry up. "This man, who is he?"

Tommy swallowed a few times, clearing his throat, before saying, "My neighbor...Derrek."

Bobby nodded as he waited for Tommy to pull away, and he did after a couple of seconds. He wiped at his eyes and looked over at his sister who had stopped coloring and was wiping her own eyes with the sleeve to her flower dress.

Kristy looked up at her brother and told him, "I sorry, Tommy," before giving him a hug.

Bobby watched the display with a new wave of sadness bearing down on him. It was time for him to leave. "I'm, uh...I'm going to go and talk with the detectives, now, okay? But, but, um...someone will be in here to watch you guys. Is that okay?"

Tommy nodded as he kept a tight hold on his sister. "Will you come back?"

Bobby smiled at Tommy as he thought about that. He didn't know if he would be or not. "I'm not sure, but I'll try to see you again, before I leave." That was all he could promise the kid, and it hurt him to know that that was all he could do.

Slowly, he got up and felt his back protest and bite back a groan as he walked to the door and opened it. Once it was shut, he told Fin, "It was the neighbor, Derrek."

Fin nodded before asking, "You okay?"

Bobby rubbed at his eyes as he realized that they were hurting. "Yeah, fine, just..." he trailed off as he walked away and headed toward the restrooms. He felt like he couldn't breathe and he was feeling a little sick.

The men's room door flew open as he stalked in. He stepped up to a sink and turned on cold water and slapped his face a few times before dunking his head under the faucet and letting the cold water run over his head. The coldness seemed to distract him as the images of his own memories and what he imagined happened to Tommy and his mother faded from his mind.

Taking deep breaths, he turned off the water and rested his head against the cool faucet as he regained his control. He was ready to break in there after seeing Tommy break. That boy reminded him so much of himself when he was that age, it was scary.

Lifting his head, he caught sight of Stabler behind him. Bobby stilled for moment before straightening. He ignored the water that fell down his face and over his neck into his shirt as he turned and eyed the detective.

Stabler's arms were crossed but he didn't look upset, instead, he looked concerned. "You sure you're okay?

Bobby rubbed a hot hand over his face, wiping the water off as he closed his eyes and nodded. Pushing himself off the counter, he grabbed a handful of paper towels and dried his face and neck as much as possible and then tossed them away.

"I didn't know 'bout your mother."

Bobby stopped with his hand on the door as he turned to be staring at Stabler. "I'm shocked. You seem to think you know everything about me." He opened the door and left without looking back.

Alex was waiting for him in the hallway. "Hey."

Bobby smiled a little. "Hey. I'm fine, really."

Alex nodded slowly as she studied him. "I know. Want to get some air?"

Bobby shook his head as he started walking back toward the main room. "No, I want to get back to our case."

Once again, after a couple of minutes of preparing a cup of coffee, he was seated back in front of the clear board and was studying the pictures. He fingered the one with the close up of the knife and took it off the board as he studied it closer. There was something about it that was familiar.

If he could keep the thoughts and images from his childhood at bay, he might actually be able to concentrate. Instead he was thinking about his mother and how she would do the strangest things around the house. How she was recite the Bible as she screamed at whatever demon was trying to posses him, and how she would sit in her room, rocking on her bed while she talked to herself and the voices that only she could hear. Rubbing at his head at the memories of her running around the house at night with a flashlight searching everywhere for the bugs the Soviet spies implanted...

Bobby opened his eyes and stared at the picture in his hand. Spies? The blade had two edges, smooth and serrated, with a pointed...hook at the end.

_The Spyderco Civilian had a patented reverse "S" blade that was intended to be used like an oversized claw. It had an end that was curved and pointed._

He blinked back and shook his head.

_The killer stalked Stella, she was a personal trainer at the NYC Gym... There was hardly any evidence at the scenes, he was watching them, and he didn't want to leave shoe impressions..._

Something soft impacted his head and he jerked around to be staring at the group of SVU detectives and his partner.

Munch pointed at Alex while saying, "She did it."

Alex was leaned back in a chair, arms out, and looking very pissed off.

Bobby saw Stabler walk over and retrieved a small blue stress ball off the floor. He turned back to Alex and frowned.

"I was calling your name five times, Goren."

Bobby rubbed at the spot where the stress ball hit him as he stood. "Sorry," he mumbled as he went over to a computer, the one at Stabler's desk, and asked, "Can I check something?"

Stabler shrugged. "Sure, only if you mind sharing."

Bobby began typing as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast at all. "I...I think I know what kind of knife was used." After a few minutes, he turned the computer around and showed everyone. "The Spyderco Civilian."

"Holy shit," Fin softly said when he caught sight of the knife.

"The Spyderco Civilian costs about $160," Bobby told them before telling everything that he knew about the knife. "In the early '90's, Spyderco was approached by a specialized branch of U.S. law enforcement about making a knife for their undercover agents. The undercover agents, they couldn't always carry a gun, but they could always carry a knife, and this one can be deeply and unobtrusively hidden in a pocket."

"I bet it was the CIA," Munch said from the back of the group.

Bobby rubbed at the back of his head as he said, "It doesn't matter who needed them, the point is that these are very hard to get. You have to order them on-line or happen to run into one at a knife convention. And I don't think our killer found one at a convention, so he had to have ordered one."

"We can crossed reference anyone who has bought one in New York," Benson said as she sat at her desk.

"That could be hundreds of people, including cops."

Bobby looked at Stabler at the word 'cop'. "Well, actually, I was, uh, thinking..." he looked at Alex who was watching him with a stern look on her face. She was right where he was. Turning back to Stabler, he said, "The killer, he has this knife, he knows about forensics, and he uses the NYC Gym." He looked back over to Alex as she sighed and shook her head.

"What are you saying?" asked Stabler in angry and near disbelief.

Bobby and Alex both said at the same time, "It's a cop."

"Damn," Fin sighed heavily as he looked around at everyone. "And here I thought it was just some sick nut-job. Now I know that it's a sick nut-job with a badge."

* * *

_Green Terrence Lounge_

_Upper East Side, Manhattan_

The crowded restaurant that was down some stairs and right next to the subway station on the Lexington Avenue side of the street. It was smoky and the lights were dimmed a little, all the furniture was wooden except for the chair that were cushioned and black.

"My father would love this place," Alex quietly told him as they were shown to a table.

They didn't have a reservation, of course, but just flashing their shields was enough to get them a table.

Bobby smirked at Alex as he sat at a table in the back corner. From his position, he could see everyone else in the restaurant and who was coming in and going out of the door. "What's you father's favorite drink?"

Alex picked up a menu as she told him, "Bushmills Irish Whiskey."

Bobby gave an indifferent nod as he eyed his menu but didn't attempt to see what was on it. "We've got five minutes until he shows up."

"If he shows up, and on time." Alex glared at him over the top of her menu. "So, what's the plan."

Bobby shrugged a little as he sipped on the glass of water. "I, uh, inadvertently make him lose his temper until he hits me. Then, we arrest him."

Alex chuckled and shook her head. "Some plan, Goren. His lawyer will get him out in an hour."

"Assault on a police officer...nah, he'll at least be in until Monday. It's Friday, courts close at five. After we get back to the department, and book him, and then the waiting for the paperwork to be filed and processed...It'll be at least six. His arraignment will be on Monday, just enough time for us to talk to him and get a confession."

"Well, at least I can say you're not overly confident," she teased him as she put the menu down. "I can't believe that everything here costs more than I spend on lunch in a week. The water being the cheapest because it's free."

Bobby raised a brown and shook his head. "I bet the cows are slaughtered out back."

Alex huffed out a laugh. "From fifty to a hundred bucks a steak it better be."

"I'm not paying."

Alex turned away from watching the door to him; she was smirking as she said, "Cheapskate."

Bobby smirked right back as he looked toward the door just as it opened and Douglas walked in with a couple of other men, one being his partner in crime, Eric Curtis. "Butch and Sundance are here."

Alex looked toward the door. "Should we wait?"

"Yeah; at least until he starts faking amusement at their lame jokes."

It didn't take long before he was shifting in his seat and fidgeting with the corner of the menu as he felt the need to get up. He couldn't sit for too long without moving.

"You look like you're ready to bust."

Bobby glanced at her and finally stood. She was right next to him as he ventured across the room to the table the two CEO's were sitting at. He walked behind Eric up sidestepped out of the way of the on-coming waiter and right to Douglas's left shoulder.

"Excuse.." Douglas's sharp comment was cut off as he looked up at him angrily.

Bobby looked a little stunned at seeing him there as he smiled. "Mr. Douglas, I didn't know you eat here. Eames, look who it is?"

Alex smiled at Douglas and gave a small wave as she stood next to Curtis. "Small world."

"Isn't it?" Bobby asked bemused as he pulled an empty chair up to the table and sat down. All the other men at the table were shocked as they didn't know who he was or what was going on. "Hey, I'm Robert Goren," he told the other men at the table. "Detective Goren, actually." He showed them his shield and they all visible flinched and eyed Douglas.

Douglas was turning a bright red as his hand gripped the napkin in his hand. "Now, I'm sure this is stalking, Detective."

"No, I eat here too. The steak is delicious."

Alex leaned against the back of Curtis's chair and grinned down at him. "You should try it, for the flavor it's well worth my day's paycheck."

Curtis looked over to Douglas and asked, "What's going on? I thought you said everything was fine."

"Oh, it is fine," Bobby said as he picked up Douglas's drink and took a smell. "Bourbon, for lunch? Well, I guess since you drove your company into the ground by," he started laughing a little, "lying to your stock holders and laundering their money...I would be drinking Bourbon too. Hey, how is that going for you, anyway?"

Douglas turned a deathly glare to him as he plastered a fake smile on his face. "We're going to win that case."

Bobby shook his head in mock disbelief. "Really? I heard differently. I heard, that, you..." he leaned closer to the man who was clenching his fist on top of the table, "...screwed it up. You were incompetent and...scared. Why else would you be so stupid enough to murder a Judge's daughter. I know why, 'cause you're a--" Bobby didn't have time to move back as Douglas's fist connected with his right eye. He recovered quickly and caught the second fist and twisted it back behind the man, pulling him up and out of the chair as he let out a grunted scream. "Mr. Douglas, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer."

"Fuck you, you taunted me, you asshole."

Bobby pinched the cuffs on the man's wrists, causing him to twisted around with a yelp. "I'll use my right to remain silent if I were you."

Douglas was too angry to listen as he kept up his bad-mouth all the way out the door. "If you even fucking try to pin that murder on me, I'm going to sue your ass and the entire NYPD."

Bobby turned to Alex and shook his head. She was trying hard not to laugh as she unlocked the SUV's back door.

Once Douglas was secure in the backseat, Bobby asked Alex, "Is it bad?"

"It's already starting to swell."

"Fuck."

Alex started laughing as she rounded the truck. "I can't believe you actually let him hit you."

"I don't want him getting off on some technicality, saying that he never threatened me. I've got proof," Bobby said as he pointed to his eye. "And witnesses. The whole damn place saw what happened."

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

Bobby lead Douglas into holding, The CEO finally had stopped his irate yelling once they reached the department. At the sight of all the officers with guns, he shut his mouth and didn't hardly let himself breathe.

Opening the cell door, Bobby ushered him in and then closed the door. "Back up to the bars."

Douglas did as he was told, backing up until his hands touched the metal bars.

Bobby un-cuffed him and left the room, nodding to the young officer guarding the door. Alex was already in Deakins office, so he headed that way. He caught a few looks from other detectives as he approached the office.

Alex turned toward him and grimaced as she tossed him an ice pack.

"Thanks," Bobby told her as he placed the pack on next to his right eye.

Deakins shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "I'm so glad you two don't tell me everything."

"Plausible deniability," Bobby said as he sat down heavily in a chair. "We're gonna let him sit in there for a while before we book him into the computer."

Deakins rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. "You two better let Carver know before he gets a phone call from Mr. Douglas's lawyer. Carver wouldn't appreciate it if he were thrown into this little scheme blind."

"Scheme?" Bobby asked as he looked up at Alex who was standing beside him. "Scheme?" he asked again.

Alex shrugged. "I guess that's what us cops do now, scheme up things to do."

"Knock it off," Deakins order, but he was smiling, just a little. "Okay, we'll let him stew in there for a while, but after the tenth time of him asking, I'm going to have to let him call his lawyer."

Bobby nodded as he stood. "Fine by me. I just don't want him out of here until Monday. I want to be able to have enough time to get him to confess."

"It shouldn't take too long, he did snap and hit you in a matter of minutes. He's a loose canon ready to blow," Alex said as she left the office and waving 'bye' to Deakins.

Bobby followed her out, shutting the door behind him. "As long as he blows and confesses to Annabelle's murder and not beating the shit out of me, I'm good with that."

They had just sat down at their desks when Alex's cell went off. Pulling it out, she answered, "Eames."

Bobby watched her as she sighed and shook her head at whatever she was hearing.

"Okay, we'll be right there." She hung up and grabbed her coat. "Benson said your phone is off."

"Oh, and?" Bobby said as he grabbed his overcoat and pulled out his cell to turn it back on.

Alex started for the elevators as she told him, "Guess who's trying to take over the investigation?"

Bobby looked up at her with wide-eyes. "The FBI?"

Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I hate it when you do that."

Bobby smirked as he pulled on his coat and leaned against the back wall of to the elevator. "You should stop giving me the option to respond."

Alex spotted his empty hands and asked, "Where's your binder?"

"It's in the truck. I was too busy man-handling Douglas to grab it."

Alex was quiet for a moment before she told him, "You're calling Carver."

"I know, I'll do it in the on the way to SVU. When he starts yelling at me, I can 'accidentally' lose reception."

Alex just shook her head at him as his smile grew at the thought of actually doing it, but he wouldn't.

* * *

_Special Victim's Unit_

Stabler and Benson were waiting in Cragen's office when they arrived.

"What happened to you?" Stabler asked as he entered the room.

Bobby softly muttered, "Pissed off a murderer."

Stabler chuckled as he said, "Why am I not surprised."

"Detective Eames, Goren," Cragen began once the banter had stopped. "I'm going to get straight to it. Twenty minutes ago, I got off the phone with the Manhattan's FBI field office. They have reason to believe that the man responsible for these killings is the same person they're searching for in another murder."

"A murder of who?"

Cragen answered Alex as he said, "A Federal Agent was killed in the Bronx a few weeks ago. He was killed with the same kind of knife that your killer used."

Everyone turned to Bobby at that. He looked around at everyone staring at him and shifted in his stance. "So, it was confirmed that the Civilian was the weapon used?"

Cregan nodded. "And ballistics came back on the bullet recovered at the scene. It's a 9 millimeter, fired from a Beretta."

Bobby nodded as he took in the new added evidence to their case. "He slipped up; he left the bullet."

"Maybe he wanted it to be found."

Bobby glanced over at Stabler as he smiled a little. "I wouldn't be surprised, it's a game to him now, so...So," he turned his attention back to Cragen. "Is the FBI trying to take this case or are they wanting to joint investigate?"

Cragen calmly told him, "Joint investigate, but...only with my department."

It took a moment for that to click in his head, and once it did, he was furious. "What?!" Bobby's voice sounded off the walls in office, causing everyone to stare at him, stunned. Besides Alex, no one else in that room have ever seen him pissed off. "They don't want our help? They wouldn't have even known about the knife if it wasn't for me."

"Detective, I know that. You are the one that figured out the knife, but you are also the one who said it was a cop. And, you're also the one that is the only witness to this guy's murder. They don't think you should be one this, you're too close and right now, the FBI is looking at you as more than just a witness."

Bobby was really mad now. "I've been cleared as a suspect, and I witnessed that murder thirty years ago; it's not like I saw the guy last week!"

"You don't need to argue the point with me, Goren. If it was my decision, you'll still be working this case, but it isn't. This came from the Bureau; if you want to waste your time taking it up with them. As of now, I'm ordering you to cool it."

"Bobby."

He shifted his glare from Cragen to Alex. She knew that they were beat; there was nothing they could do. Bobby, on the other hand, was too stubborn to let it go. He looked back at Cragen. "This is bureaucratic bullshit."

"Get out of my department, now, Detective."

Bobby pulled open the door so hard it hit the doorstop with a loud 'bang' as he stormed out of the office and through the wooden doors that lead to the stairs. Once he was outside and next to the SUV he drew back before punching the side of the truck with his fist. "Son-of-a-bitch."

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

"How's the hand?"

Bobby lifted his heavy eyelids as he stared up at Alex as she stood over his with a cup of water for him. He took the cup as he told her, "Thanks." Taking a sip, he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. "You think I get the FBI to change their minds?"

"Don't you have friends with the Bureau?"

"Yeah, but...they don't work with the Behavioral Unit. One works out of the department in Washington D.C. as an Analysis, the one that's here works in Organized Crime. The only other person I know, she's a professor at Quantico." Bobby downed the rest of the water as he sat up straighter in his chair. "This sucks."

Alex sighed deeply and agreed, "I know, but there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Yes, there is. We can keep investigating it, on our own time."

Alex glared at him. "Goren, I love my job, and I love being your partner. I'm not going to risk both by doing something stupid like getting fired."

"You're already been doing something that could get you fired," he shot back. "This...it's worth it, isn't it? I mean, we know the case, we've looked at every piece of evidence and studied every file hundreds of times by now we can recite them in our sleep. Or, at least I can. We are close to getting this guy. He's fucking up so bad, it's going to be soon."

"What if he's just playing with us? Have you thought about that? He had no reason to start leaving evidence and calling it in. You said it yourself; this is a game now. And whether or not he wants to get caught, he wants to mess with us first. The knife, the bullet, the gym...it's all pointing to a cop. You're a cop."

Bobby blinked back at what she was trying to tell him. "You...you think he wants this to...to come back onto me?"

"Why not? This guy is smart, he could have learned who you were, that you were the boy who witnessed his first crime...its payback."

Bobby rubbed at his head as he let that work in with the profile he had created in his head. "If...If that's true then..." he looked up at her as he covered his mouth. His eyes bore into hers, causing her to frown deeply with worry.

"Then what?"

Bobby couldn't bring himself to say it, but he knew he had to. He slowly lowered his hand and tried to say as softly as possible, "Then, he'll be after you."

Alex stared at him for a moment before leaning back in the chair. She was quiet as she thought about that, and then finally said, "I go to the same gym as his last victim...What if that is where it starts?"

Bobby shook his head. "No."

"Goren, we can set him up."

"We don't even know what he looks like," he nearly yelled, causing the other detectives around him to look his way. Bobby didn't care, nor notice as he was only looking at Alex.

Alex looked around the squad room and she noticed the eyes looking their way. "Come with me," she said as she got up and started down the hallway.

Bobby jumped up and quickly followed her as she led them to a stairwell.

Once the door was close she turned to face him as she said, "We're at work, and we agreed that once we got into this building you would stop thinking of me as your girlfriend. I'm your senior partner, Goren, and you know damn well that if we weren't together you would have no problem setting me up as bait to catch this psycho."

Bobby stared down hard at her as that sunk in. She was right, he wouldn't have thought twice about it; not that he had any type of disrespect for her, but because he knew she was tough and strong, and she could handle the bastard. "I, uh....I...You're right," he finally got out of his clenched jaw. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the anger that wanting to explode. "I would have. We, uh...we're going to have to talk to Deakins about this. We can't do anything unless the FBI agrees and...and, uh...accept our help."

Alex was looking like she was sorry for yelling at him, but she would never say it. Instead, she nodded and moved to open the door. "I think it's time to get Douglas to confess. I"m getting tired, and I need a drink."

Bobby smiled but the amusement didn't reach his eyes as he grabbed the top of the opened door and held it for her.

* * *

Alex stood on the other side of the one-way mirror as she watch Bobby in the interrogation room. She had to smile at the way he was getting Douglas to trip over his lies. Bobby was the master at getting cocky men who thought nothing could touch them to confess to things that they didn't even realize that they had done or had been thinking.

Captain Deakins and ADA Carver were standing next to her, watching the master at work as he leaned over the chair and said something into Douglas's ear that no one but the other man could hear. Whatever it was, it caused Douglas to pound the table and start yelling at Bobby.

"Let's hope he doesn't start attacking him."

"No, let's," Alex said as she turned to Deakins. "If he can't get him for the murder, at least we can get him from attempted murder on Goren."

Carver laughed softly as he shook his head. "I don't think he can do anything that'll surprise me anymore. I've think I've finally seen it all."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that." Alex turned her attention back to the man in the other room.

She wasn't too surprised by Bobby's reaction to her suggestion earlier. He was very protective of her when they were just partners. Now that they were more, he was more possessive of her than he had ever been before. When she was on maternity leave, he was nearly in a panic at work without her there. And he would come over and stay at her apartment with her every single night. During her last two months of pregnancy, he was hardly at his own apartment; he only stopped in on the way to work to get a change of clothes.

There were stories going around about his increased annoyance around the department and his sudden temper when his temp partner wasn't catching on to his way of thinking or knew what he was talking about. Alex knew that his anger had run deeper than that, Bobby was not only longing for her to be there as his sound board and partner in crime, but he was truly, deeply missing _her_.

That was the first time Alex truly realized how much he loved her, even though the idiot could never say it, he did say it, just not using those exact words.

And now, she was asking him to let her put herself out there for some psychopath to stalk and think about. Bobby would be going crazy over worry, but he would never let it show. She knew that his anger at the suggestion was because he cared, not because he thought she couldn't handle it.

Bobby knew by now that she could handle anything. She handled the demands of the Job, she handled losing Joe, she handled her mother's stroke, she even handled giving birth to a boy that she could only call her nephew and see a few times a week, and she has proven that she could handle him.

And he was starting to get more animated as his voice sounded loudly over the speaker as he pushed Douglas to his last breaking point.

She watched as Douglas pushed back in his chair, it went flying into the concrete wall behind him as he confessed to the murder of Annabelle Jameson before he lunged toward Bobby.

Alex was out of the observation room and into the interrogation room in a matter of seconds. Bobby's head snapping back to hit the wall was the first thing she saw when she opened the door. Douglas drew back again but she grabbed his arm and twisted it down and up against his upper back.

"Aw, fuck, let go of me you bitch!" Douglas yelled as he turned around toward her.

Alex didn't even blink as she kneed the man right between his legs. Bobby had recovered and had grabbed him from behind and threw his into the mirror behind him. It cracked but didn't break at the impact.

Bobby held the hysterically mad man against the mirror as four officers rushed the room and struggled with him to get Douglas to the floor and cuffed.

Alex watched as Douglas was dragged off kicking and screaming the entire way. She turned to Bobby and asked, "You okay?"

Bobby was taking deep breaths as he checked her over closely as he nodded once. "You?"

Alex shook her head. "I wasn't the one who hit my head against the wall."

"Didn't do it on purpose, he suckered punched me." Bobby reached up and rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.

"Two fights with the same man in one day," Deakins said from the doorway. "Christ, Goren, are you trying to give the Chief of D's a heart attack?"

Bobby looked sympathetic toward the Captain as he meekly shrugged, "No."

Deakins shook his head and went to leave before looking back at them. "You two are done for the day. Alex, make sure he gets checked out, I don't want him to slip into a coma from an undiagnosed concussion."

"Yes, sir." Alex turned to him. "Come on, let's get out of here before you get into a fight with Carver next."

Bobby was behind her, following slowly, as they left the interrogation room and headed to their desks. She studied him closely as he rubbed at his eyes and head, wincing from the unseen pain that must be radiating in his head.

"I don't have a concussion," he told her.

Alex didn't know if he did or not, but she wasn't going to take any chances. "You might. Or, you could have a busted blood vessel and internal bleeding."

Bobby flipped his binder closed as he eyed her. "A what?"

"See," she said smirking. "You've lost the ability to comprehend. We're going to the hospital."

Bobby went to protest but then snapped his mouth shut. He pulled on his overcoat and grabbed his binder. "If that'll make you worry less, then...okay."

Alex couldn't believe it, Bobby Goren wasn't even putting up a fight. "You must have hit your head hard."

"What can I say," he said as he shuffled slowly next to her as they walked out of the squad room. "Today hasn't been my day."

* * *

_St. Michaels Hospital_

_Williamsburg, Brooklyn_

"Mr. Goren," the doctor said as he re-entered the room where he was lying on his back on the bed and covering his eyes to protect them against the bright lights.

Bobby managed a soft grunt as his response.

"We got the test results back and according to your MRI and CAT scan, you're perfectly fine, except for the horrible headache you're experiencing. I've written you a prescription for some Tylenol."

"I've got Tylenol."

"Yes, but this is a stronger dose, and it should start helping right away. It's only for enough for two days, which I think is more than necessary. But...to be on the safe side," he tapped his leg with his clipboard.

"I don't want it."

"Are you sure?"

Bobby rolled onto his side and sat up on the examine bed. "I'm certain, I can't drink if I take those." He looked around the room as he spotted his white T-shirt and dress shirt on a chair. "I owe my partner a drink. Hand me those, will you," he asked as he pulled the gown off and tossed it to the floor.

The doctor handed him his shirts and he quickly pulled his T-shirt on then slipped his dress shirt on over top of it. Bobby didn't bother to button it as he took the clipboard and signed whatever it was he had to sign, and then left.

Alex was waiting for him out in the waiting area; she was reading a magazine that had to do with women's health as he approached.

"Ready?"

Alex quickly got up and checked him over herself. "What did the doctor say?"

"Nothing is broken, fractured, or busted. I just have a horrible looking bruise and a headache."

Alex finally smiled as she walked beside him out of the hospital. "I got a call from Detective Benson, they want to met us at Ray's. And since you did promise me a drink, I said we'll be there."

Bobby had stopped walking when she mentioned 'Ray's'.

Alex noticed that he wasn't beside her anymore and turned back to him. "What's the matter?"

Bobby eyed the floor as he closed his eyes. He hadn't been to Ray's since the night he was taken. The memory of Detective Rebecca Davis entered his head along with her escorting him home that night. He remembered the snow that had started to fall around them as he kissed her in front of his old apartment building; his old apartment where she was killed and where he was abducted from.

Alex placed a hand on his shoulder as she told him, "We don't have to go, Bobby."

He opened his eyes and stared into hers. She wanted to go, but she wouldn't if he asked her. Bobby couldn't get himself to ask her not to, so he swallowed hard and shook his head. "It's okay. I'll go."

"You sure?"

No, he wasn't, but he couldn't let the past dominate his present of future. He could handle it. "Yeah, I'm sure."

* * *

_Ray's Pub_

_Lower East Side, Manhattan_

Bobby started hating cop bars the day he started going back to one after his abduction. It was in the cop bars that he started to get into fights, and not just verbal ones. Every cop in the city, hell, even the whole state, knew about him by now, and if they didn't have a problem with him before, they did now.

It was the weirdest thing. Before he was a victim of a violent crime, people liked him or at least stood his presence. Afterwards, he was getting ragged on by every cop who ever had a grudge against him or every cop who suddenly grew a grudge against him. It was like a big arrow pointed at him as soon as he walked into a bar that gave every asshole permission to bad-mouth him, and not even behind his back but right to his face.

So, he was more than a little apprehensive about going into Ray's. It was a nice bar, clean floors, clean glasses, decent lightly, and enough tables, booths, and stools for all those who showed up.

Bobby looked nervously around and stopped Stabler first, and then Benson, at a booth near the back of the bar. "Over there," he told Alex in her ear to be heard over the loud chatter and music, as he pointed them out.

The bar wasn't packed, but it was a good, respectable crowd for a Friday night. Bobby couldn't help but look around as he guided Alex through the groups of people, some who he recognized, some he didn't.

Stabler was the first to spot them and waved them over. Being pulled up to the booth was a table being carried by both Fin and Munch.

This little outing just became a lot more interesting. Bobby let Alex sit down in the booth first before sliding in beside her.

Fin and Munch pulled up chairs to the small round table as they sat next to them, Benson and Stabler was across from them in the booth.

Once they all told the waitress what they wanted, Benson spoke up. "You guys being pulled off the case was the worst thing the FBI could have done."

Bobby glanced over at Alex who was nodding in appreciation.

"Thanks," she told Benson. "We appreciate it."

Bobby shifted his focus to the table as he folded his hands in front of him. He had caught Stabler watching him, but he didn't care; the whole damn bar was probably looking at him. And he was being paranoid. He rubbed at the back of his head and winced at the pain shooting through it.

Alex nudged him and he peered over her through half-closed eyelids. "Feeling okay?"

Bobby slowly nodded. "Just need a drink, that's all."

Alex turned back to Benson as she told her, "After he got our killer to confess, the guy rammed him into the wall."

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

Bobby nodded but didn't looked up to meet Benson's eyes. "I got him though; life in prison, no parole."

The waitress returned with their drinks and placed them on the table as she said, "The first round is on the house. Ray told me to tell Detective Goren..." They all pointed to Bobby. She smiled at him as she told him, "Welcome back."

Bobby watched her leave and looked over at the bar to where Ray was standing. He smiled at him and waved before going back to tending to another customer.

"Damn it, if I'd known Ray was going to give us free drinks, I would have brought you back her months ago."

Bobby smiled over at Alex as he picked up his drink. "Here's to...getting the bastard that's killing these women."

"I'll drink to that," Stabler said as he downed his "Jack & Coke'.

Bobby did the same with his glass of scotch. Now he needed another one.

"Hey," Alex said to him. "Why don't you tell them about what we were discussing."

Bobby waved the waitress back over as he eyed Alex. "We haven't even talked to the captain yet."

"So, they can tell the FBI guys and see if they'll agree on their own."

Bobby didn't want anything discussed; he didn't even want to think about them actually going through with the plan. However, he knew that something had to be done, and Stabler and Benson seemed well enough capable to have Alex's back. "Okay, but since it was your bright idea, you tell 'em," he said before he turned to the waitress and ordered another drink.

Alex told them everything they had talked out at the department, including using her as bait to reel the killer in, before the waitress returned with his and Stabler's drinks.

Bobby paid her for it that time, and included a tip for not only the second drink but the first. He took his time with the second one as he ignored the noise going on around him. Fin and Munch were in a heated conversation about the something going on in their own investigation. Alex and Benson were talking about the case and what they could do at the gym if the FBI let them back into it. And Stabler, he was...being quiet, drinking his drink, and checking his watch.

"Gotta be somewhere?"

Stabler looked up at him and shook his head. "No, just...wondering."

Bobby frowned as he became confused. "About the time?"

Stabler laughed and shook his head. "About my family."

"Oh," Bobby once again glanced at Stabler's wedding ring. He had forgotten that the man was married, and had children.

Fin's voice cut through his attempt at ignoring everything. "John, there is no government conspiracy about earthquakes being caused by the Navy to wipe out the West Coast."

Bobby stared over at Munch and started laughing so hard his side started hurting.

Munch stared at him and asked, "What's so funny?"

Bobby finally shook his head as he got out, "It's just...my mother thought the exact same thing when the '89 earthquake hit San Francisco, but she suffers from delusions; what the hell is your excuse?"

"An overactive imagination and overt paranoia."

Bobby was still laughing as he rubbed at his head that started to pound from his laughing. "That's as good an answer as any, I guess. I was just thinking that everyone in this bar is plotting to beat the shit out me."

Munch finally laughed back and raised his glass. "To paranoia."

Bobby could definitely drink to that.

TBC...


	7. Saturday, October 9, 2004pt1

A/N: Lovin' the reviews! Thanks everyone again for the encouragement! Also, this chapter turned into a really, really long chapter, so I broke it up into two parts to make it easier to read.

This first part is rated, um, **M**....Enjoy!

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

His eyelids felt heavy, like they were being weighed down much like the rest of his body. Shifting his weight and rolling onto his right side, his right leg protested violently as it twisted and wedged up against the side of his bed.

Groaning at the sudden discomfort, and wondering why, he slowly pried his eyes open. Sunlight immediately burned at his eyes, causing him to wince and moan as he covered them with his hand. After he rubbed the pain away, he opened his eyes again, but this time he was looking toward the floor and not directly out the open window. It was his wooden floor, with his clothes scattered on it. The only thing he was wearing were his boxer shorts.

Taking a quick mental survey of his body, overall, he was feeling okay. His back was tense and stiff, his head was still hurting but it was tolerable, and his right knee was throbbing with the awkward position it was in. That was when he realized that his leg wasn't on the bed but it had been thrown over the side of it with his foot planted firming on the floor. He must have done that last night to keep the room and his head from spinning.

Swallowing around the thick cotton in his mouth, he rolled onto his back as he said, "'lex," as he turned his head to the left to look at her.

The blue comforter was pulled all the way up, over her face, to block out any light. All he could see was the top of her blond head. Pulling the blanket down so he could see her face he smiled at seeing her still fast asleep. He took a moment to watch her as he once again was struck by her beauty, and the fact that she was still there. Prying his eyes away from her, he glanced over at the clock and groaned at the time. It was a little after eight; he had only gotten about four hours of sleep.

Slowly sitting up on the side of the bed, he rested his head in his hands and waited for the spinning, queasy movements to stop. How much did he drink last night? He only remembered three.

As soon as he went to stand, his back flared with a warm spasm and he gritted his teeth at the pain. When his face tensed, his right cheek and eye started to hurt as well. Rubbing at it, he felt the puffy sore skin from where Douglas had hit him. Yesterday, he had been battered not only mentally and emotionally but physically as well. Now his body was making him pay for it as it protested against his every movement as he made his way to the dresser and pulled out a clean white T-shirt, boxers, and black jeans before leaving his room.

His shower took a little longer than usual as he let the warm water beat down onto his back, trying to ease the tense and sore muscles from when Douglas had plowed him into the interrogation room wall. Finishing in the shower, he dried and got halfway dressed, leaving his shirt off as he took a couple of aspirins before lathering his face with shaving cream.

He was meeting Alex's family today, and there was no way he was going to do it looking like he was. As he looked at himself in the mirror after shaving, he ran a hand through his hair and decided to also get a haircut. He would stop at his barber's shop on the way.

Taking his folded shirt off the counter, he pulled it on as he left the room.

* * *

Music was the first thing Alex noticed as she drifted into consciousness. She looked over at Bobby's side of the bed and frowned. He wasn't there. Looking around the room, she noticed that he wasn't in there and the door was open. Rubbing at her eyes, she slowly got up and realized that she wasn't wearing hardly any clothes. She still had on her bra and panties, but that was it. And it was a little cold in the room from the window being open.

Alex looked around and picked up the first piece of clothing she spotted; it was Bobby's dress shirt that he had worn to work yesterday. Slipping the oversized shirt on, she buttoned it as she made her way out the room and out into the living room.

The voice that was singing finally registered and she had to smile. It was Frank Sinatra singing 'The Good Life', but she could hear Bobby's soft baritone mixed in with it. Alex used her fingers to straighten out her hair as she approached the source of the singing. What she saw as she turned the corner at the entryway to the kitchen made her freeze as she took in the sight before her.

Bobby was swaying lightly and singing along with the song as he stirred a wooden spoon around a pan full of eggs with his right hand while he sipped at a cup of coffee with the other. "...You won't really fall in love, 'cause you can't take the chance. So be honest, with yourself, don't try to fake romance. It's the good life, to be free and explore the unknown, like the heartaches when you learn you must face them alone. Please remember, I still want you, and in case you wonder why, well, just wake up, kiss that good life...goodbye."

She covered up a laugh as she eased into the room. She slid up behind him as she watched him set the cup down as he started dancing along with the musical interlude.

"Please remember," Bobby started singing again, "I still want you and in case you wonder why...well, just wake up, kiss that good life...good-bye."

As he finished the song with a way too dramatic emphasis on 'bye', she placed her hands on his back.

Bobby nearly jumped out of his skin as he jerk against the stove and looked at her, causing her to laugh even harder. "Eames!" he scolded but his threat wasn't much as he had a playfully smirk on his face. He turned off the stove before turning into her hands and wrapped his left arm around her waist. Pulling her more firmly against him as he asked, "Think I'm funny, do ya?" He didn't give her a chance to answer as his right hand moved her hair out of her face as he started placing soft kisses along her neck and up to her ear. "Mornin', baby."

"Mornin', Frankie."

Bobby chuckled as he took her right hand in his left as he suddenly spun her around and then pulled her back to his chest as they started dancing to 'Strangers in the Night'. He kissed her on the lips before kissing along her face and jaw, heading back down her neck. Feeling his warm breath on her skin sent a shiver down her spine. She loved the way he kissed and touched her; it was always tender and soft yet so passionate.

He easily dipped her and chuckled at her yelp as he brought her back up to him. Alex was laughing as well until his tongue started licking, tasting, and sucking at her skin all the way down to her collarbone. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her skin before kissing it.

Alex kissed his left cheek, making him tilt his head to the side as he met her kiss with a soft one to her lips as he swayed his body against hers. Turning her around, he pressed her back up against a counter as she pushed her lips firmly into his. She teased his lips with her tongue, leaving them both wanting more, before she pulled back. "Why are you apologizing?" she asked once the kiss was broken. "I've only been up for ten minutes and so far you're not frustrating me."

Bobby smiled a little before he told her seriously, "It's after nine and I knew that you wanted to get going by now. I should have woken you sooner, but...I got distracted."

"I _thought_ I would be able to leave by nine last night, but that was before Benson challenged me in a game of arcade bowling. So, if anyone should be saying they're sorry it's her for making me have to play five games before she conceded defeat. We stayed out way longer than I expected."

Bobby shook his head and rubbed at the back of his head. Alex had noticed that there was a small lump there last night, but it wasn't serious or noticeable. "I don't remember that."

Alex smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm not surprised. You and Munch were matching drink for drink as you went off on conspiracy theory tangents for hours. Bobby, by the time I dragged you out of there, you were convinced that the FBI actually has a team of agents investigating UFO's and aliens."

Bobby blinked back and smiled a little. "It...could be, possible."

Alex rolled her eyes and shook her head causing him to laugh. She pushed up against him at the same time that he leaned down and they kissed deeper as she let his tongue taste her warm mouth. His hand moved down to her thigh and squeezed gently as he lifted her leg to hook around the back of his. A heat spread through her as she felt his hand caress from her knee to her butt then back again. Moaning into his mouth, she rubbed against him and gasped as she felt how hard he was through his pants.

Bobby's arm was suddenly around her waist under the shirt as his other hand gripped her thigh firmly as he hoisted her up onto the counter. Alex closed her eyes as his lips attacked her neck as his hands unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing. Running her hands over his back and into his hair, she felt his big hands take her hold of her breasts and massaged gently before he took a nipple into his wet mouth.

There was no holding back with him; Bobby greedily sucked and licked at her nipples and breasts, making her squirm and bite her bottom lip to keep from screaming. She couldn't hold back her moans as it felt so good; the fire was igniting her whole body and she was desperately aching for him it almost hurt.

"Bobby, please..." her voice shook as she asked, "I want you."

He kissed his way back up to her lips and sucked hard on her bottom lip that she had bitten before leaning back. As he undid his belt and unzipped his pants, Alex swallowed hard at the intense look of hunger and lust that filled his dark eyes as he took her in from her legs up. He was going to fuck her brains out on his kitchen counter, and she was going to let him.

She grabbed the hem of his white shirt and pulled it up over his head once it was free of his pants and tossed it somewhere behind him. Bobby moved in-between her legs, letting his eyes roam over her body as his hands smoothed up her inner thighs. His thumbs rubbed circles on her hips causing her muscles to quiver and face to heat with want.

The teasing was frustrating her, and Bobby knew it and that was why his lips suddenly formed a goofy looking smirk before she slammed her lips against his, wrapped her legs tighter around his back, and pulled him to her. Breaking the kiss, she told him, "Fuck me now."

Bobby didn't say anything but his eyes were amused as he slid her panties off and kissed her deeply as he pushed inside her. They both stilled and groaned at the pleasure. He didn't move for a moment, letting her adjust to him, as he broke the kiss and buried his head into her neck.

Alex felt his body pushed her back a little as he shifted his weight to thrust into her. She leaned back, placing her hands on the counter, as he slid out almost completely before he slowly filled her again. He was taking his time, hitting all the right spots as he swirled his hips and rubbed against the bundle of nerves that sent a wave a electric pleasure down her back.

Her breathing was shaking and shallow as she closed her eyes and focused on the sensations. One of his arms was around her waist, holding her in place, as another was playing with her breasts and nipples. Bobby was making her whole body build with anticipation and her mind was shutting down.

She couldn't feel anything except for him thrusting in and out of her, his chest shaking with the need to go faster as he fought to control his breathing, and his breath was hot and thick against her neck as his voice hitched and groaned with the pleasure he was feeling.

Just when she didn't think her body could take anymore, and that she was slowly approaching her orgasm, she screamed as Bobby pounded up hard into her, rocking the countertop. Alex swallowed a deep groan of pleasure as his hand left her breasts and gripped her hip as he sped up. He was fucking her so fast and hard that the pleasure was mixing with pain as she rocked hard on the counter.

Her throat locked as her orgasm hit her hard, spending intense ripples of pleasure and heat through her whole body. She wrapped her arms around Bobby's neck as he pulled her up to him as she clenched hard and tight around him as he continued to pound into as he rubbed at the nub that sent her convulsing into another wave of pleasure.

A deep rumble rippled through his chest as he held her against his chest as he thrust one last time into her and tensed. Bobby jerked into her a few times before moaning into her neck and pushing deeply into her before his heavy body nearly collapsed on top of her.

Alex held him to her as he held himself up on his forearms. He started placing lazy soft wet kisses on her neck and down her chest. Her hands smoothed over his neck and down his sweaty back, feeling his muscles quiver and shake as he was still feeling the aftereffects of his orgasm.

"Bobby?"

He hummed into her skin between her breasts as he continued to kiss her.

She had to bite her lip again at the sight of him moving lower. He was going to kill her if he kept this up. "Wasn't there a phone and a mug with pens on this counter?"

Bobby looked up at her and then at the counter she was sitting on. It was bare. They both looked to the floor. The mug was shattered into pieces, pens were scattered everywhere, and the phone had gone dead from being off the hook too long.

"I guess...we got a little carried away," he started laughing as he rubbed at her thighs again.

Alex turned back to face him just as he licked at her center. Her voice broke at what she was about to say as she threw her head back at the jolt that shook all the way up her body. She didn't know if Bobby was wanting to make her come again, or if he just wanted to taste what was down there, but either way she didn't care.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as he continued to drink her in. His lips and tongue were everywhere: sucking at her nub, licking around and inside of her, and then kissing and sucking at her folds. She had to lay back on the counter, placing her legs over his shoulder, as she was coming again as he flicked his tongue over her nub. He was right there with his mouth to take her all in.

She couldn't breathe for long time as her eyes clenched shut as her chest pounded. Bobby eased her legs down and was hovering over her as he kissed over her body, neck, and then her face.

"I love everything about you."

Alex opened her eyes to be staring deeply into his. His dark brown eyes were as serious and intense as she had ever seen them. It was like he was looking straight into her soul and her into his.

"You know that, don't you? I mean, when we're together...and-and I don't just mean when we're having sex, but...all the time, you...you can feel that, right? How...how much, you...mean to me."

Alex was suddenly struck with a lose for words as they stared at each other. She was aching in all the right places for all the right reasons, she had yet to even shower and was nearly naked, and he was telling her the he loved everything about her. And for Bobby that meant he was telling her that he loved her.

She felt her eyes sting as tears welled in them. Bobby frowned down at her and at the look of fear in his eyes, she immediately pushed up and kissed him with all the love and passion she could gather at the moment. She felt him shake and this time it wasn't from aftereffects, but from her kiss. Pulling away, she told him, "Yeah, Bobby, I know. I love you too."

Bobby swallowed hard as he smiled and she could see the sincerity in his eyes as he leaned down into another kiss.

She heard him groan as she broke the kiss and pushed him away. "I've gotta take a shower and I do want to eat breakfast before I have to leave." Checking the time, she realized that she should have been gone half an hour ago.

Bobby reluctantly let her go as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her to him and kissed her softly on the lips before he stepped back and let her leave the kitchen.

* * *

Bobby steadied himself on the counter as he calmed his still pounding heart. He couldn't believe he had said that to her, and right after they had sex. What was wrong with him? Then she started to cry and then that kiss. That kiss was perfect, wonderful, but then she pushed him away to take a shower...He was so confused as his head was hurting as rubbed at his temples.

He pushed off the counter and turned off the radio. Finding his shirt on the chair, he pulled it on and fixed himself up as he looked over at mess on the floor. As he re-fastened his belt, he went to the closet by the back door and took out the broom and dust pan.

By the time he swept the floor, cleaned the counter, and picked up everything off the floor, Bobby heard the bathroom door open and then the bedroom door close. Taking two plates out of the cabinet, he prepared them both a plate of food. He had made eggs, bacon, toast, and tatter tots since he had a full bag of those in his freezer for a few weeks. Setting the plates on the table, he went to re-fill his cup with coffee and prepare Alex a cup.

Hearing her come down the hall and into the kitchen, Bobby sat the filled cups on the table as he asked, "Want a glass of orange juice too?"

"Sure, thanks."

He poured both of them a glass of juice before he left the kitchen. Bobby went to the front door and turned the bolt on the lock and yanked off the chain and then opened it. Swinging the screen door open, he leaned down, feeling his back spasm, and picked up the newspapers that had collected on his stoop.

After locking his door, he went back into the kitchen and finally sat down as he tossed Friday's edition on the table. Opening up today's paper, he started reading as he ate his breakfast. He had finished his food and reading about the Red Socks sweeping the Angels in the Division Series and the Yankees were going into Game 4 leading 2 games to 1 against Minnesota when Alex pulled down the paper and eyed him.

Bobby swallowed the coffee down hard as he saw her look. "What?"

"I've been trying to talk to you."

Bobby closed the paper and tossed it between them on the table as he leaned forward. He sipped at the rest of the coffee in the cup as he waited for her to start talking.

Alex sighed heavily at him and shook her head in frustration. "Okay, since we have to go out to Long Island do you want to just ride with me?"

Bobby frowned in confusion as he said, "Your parents don't live on Long Island."

Alex rolled her eyes before glaring at him like she was about to hit him, and it was a good thing she didn't since he was already in enough physical pain as it was. "I know you know how to pay attention, Goren. And your memory is exceptional, so why...Just...." she groaned in frustration at him again.

Bobby noticed that she only used his last name outside of the office when she was really pissed off at him. He sat the cup down and leaned back in the chair, trying to distant himself from the woman about ready to knock him in the head if he even tried to open his mouth.

"I told you last night that we all pitched in, me and my siblings, to rent a house for this weekend on Oyster Bay."

Bobby had no regulation of that conversation, but he sheepishly smiled anyway as he rubbed at his jaw. "I forgot...Sorry." After a moment, he asked, "Why Oyster Bay?"

"We used to vacation there all the time. Then, once we all got older, we stopped going. So, we thought it'd be nice to go out there now, all of us with our families, and me with you, and...spend the weekend."

"The weekend?" Bobby asked as his voice rose in a near panic. "Do...do I have to stay?"

Alex stared hard at him before saying, "I guess not, and since you are driving yourself, you can leave whenever in the hell you feel like it." She got up from the table and left the kitchen.

Bobby was right behind her. He stopped her from grabbing her purse off the couch as he took hold of her arm and turned her toward him. "Alex, I didn't mean it that way."

Alex yanked her arm out of his grip as she continued to pierce him with her eyes.

Bobby gave her some room, but not much as he leaned down a little as he explained, "You know that I visit my mother on Sundays; I'll have to either leave tonight or in the morning."

Alex deflated as he said that, but only a fraction as she crossed her arms. "And by that you're saying that you're most likely leaving tonight."

Bobby stepped back a step and closed his eyes, running a hand over his head as he thought about what to tell her. "I...I don't know," he finally told her. He opened his eyes and said, "It just...It depends on how I feel, or what happens. I'm not going to stay if...if I don't, feel...comfortable."

"You don't think you'll feel comfortable with my family?"

Bobby groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "That's...not," he trailed off as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "I have no idea how I'm going to feel around your family, but that's not what I was talking about. I was talking about actually sleeping there and having to drive all the way upstate early in the morning or if I want to drive back home at night and then get up early in the morning to drive upstate."

Alex finally let her guard down and pulled him into a hug as she wrapped her arms around his upper body.

Bobby hugged her back, resting his chin on top of her head and let out a deep breath. "This isn't going to be easy for me," he told her, and they both knew he wasn't talking about his driving dilemma.

"I know," she said into his chest. Smoothing her hands over his back, she tilted her head back to look up at him. "Just...I wish you can believe me when I tell you it'll be fine."

"It's not that I don't believe you, it's...I'm...um," Bobby had no idea how to get out what he was feeling or thinking.

"Impossible."

Bobby looked down at her and let himself smile at that.

Alex pushed up on her toes and kissed him. "It's getting late, and I do want to get out there to help my sisters get the house ready and set stuff up. Everyone else is supposed to be getting there around noon."

Bobby gave a brief nod as he unwrapped his arms from around her waist. "I've got a few places I need to stop at first, but...I should be there by at least one."

"Party crasher."

Bobby smirked as he watched her grabbed her purse and jacket. "It's supposed to be a nice weekend. Going to be in the high sixties today and tomorrow, with-with, uh...tonight's temperature around the mid-fifties."

Alex chuckled as she gave him another quick kiss. "At least you read the weather report before I made you pay attention to me."

Bobby walked her out to her car and held the door open for her as she slipped into the driver's seat. "I'll call you after I cross into Long Island and you can make sure I find my way from there."

She gave him a smile and wave before she pulled away and headed home. As he watched her drive away, he let out a breath and took a glance around the street. Movement in a car at the corner caught his attention. The driver was well hidden in the shadows as the car started and drove away.

Bobby had the sudden urge to write down the license plate and not knowing why. There was nothing abnormal about a guy starting his car and driving away. Shaking it off as paranoia and his cop instincts going haywire, he shook his head and went back into his house.

* * *

_211 Harbor Bay Road_

_Oyster Bay, Long Island_

She checked her watch again; it was going on one thirty and Bobby had called twenty minutes ago. Alex frowned in worry as she pulled out her cell and checked it again, making sure he hadn't called again. He hadn't.

"So, did Bobby decide to bail on us?"

Alex looked up at her father and smiled. "No, he's just...running late. It is Saturday and there's probably traffic."

Her father, John, smiled as he gave her a soft hug. "This is wonderful; you guys did a good job with the place."

"It was mostly Angie and Liz, I got here late myself. I'm glad you and mom like it."

"We're ecstatic. This was such a surprise, and to have everyone all together for once and having fun. It's the best gift a parent can ask for."

Alex looked around the big yard and toward the house they had rented. It was huge; a big, sky blue Dutch Colonial style house. There were six bedrooms and five baths with a spacious kitchen that made everyone happy; it made the running in and out for food and drinks easier with all the people there. The Long Island Sound was only forty yards away and the kids were getting all ready for the boat ride that her brother Rich promised them all.

She turned back to her dad as she told him, "I was going to get you and mom tickets for separate cruises."

John smiled and laughed. "Figured you would have thought of something like that." He looked over her shoulder and his eyes narrowed slightly. "I think he's here."

Alex turned around and her smile grew as she spotted Bobby's Mustang parking on the side of the road.

"Nice car."

Alex chuckled as she told him, "He worked on it with his friend for four months." She watched as Bobby got out and reached into the backseat; he pulled out a medium sized brown bag then shut the driver's door. When he turned around, he didn't move for a long moment. "I think....Yep, he's going to need me. I'll be right back."

She left her father's side and walked across the open yard to the street. Bobby was slowly walking toward her, meeting her halfway. Alex couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. He was looking exceptionally good to her with his black shades that matched his jeans and he had thrown on a light blue button down dress shirt that was open at the collar exposing his white T-shirt. He had that shy, awkward walk of his with his head down slightly but she knew he was aware of everything around him.

As she got closer, she noticed that he had gotten his hair cut as well. He was really trying and she couldn't have been happier about it. Alex stopped in front of him as her smile widened. "You made it."

Bobby slightly smiled as he shifted the bag from his left hand to his right before placing his left on the small of her back. He guided her along with him as they made their way toward her father. Leaning down closer to her, he apologized, "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay," she told him as she placed her hand against his back, in between his shoulder blades, as they walked. "We haven't really done much yet, just getting the kids ready to go a boating trip."

Bobby was looking around the area; taking a long moment to study the house before staring out toward the water. "This is really nice. I bet your parents were excited when they saw it."

Alex looked up as she told him, "According to my dad, they were ecstatic."

Bobby looked down at her and gave her that shy smile of his as he said, "I'm glad."

Alex felt the muscles in his back tense as they got closer to her dad. She became worried but didn't let it show as they stopped in front of him. She couldn't help but watch Bobby as he shifted nervously around before he positioned his legs apart and held his ground.

"Mr. Eames," Bobby greeted her dad as he shook his hand.

John smiled a little but Alex knew that solid stern look of his; he was in 'cop mode'. "So, you've finally decided to meet us; took you long enough, don't you think?" he asked in a very condescending tone.

Alex felt Bobby's body flinch, but he didn't let it show visibly. Her dad was going to make him have a heart attack. "Dad," she sternly warned.

John looked down at her and smiled wider but his eyes were still hard and un-amused. "I'm just messing with him."

She saw Bobby staring down at her in confusion and worry. He was barely breathing. "He's just kidding, Bobby," she told him even though she didn't believe it.

"Oh," Bobby said calmly but he was still too tense.

When that was all he said, Alex cleared her throat and pointed to the bag. "What's that?"

Bobby frowned at her before he realized she was pointing to the bag. "Oh, it's...a gift. For you," he said to John and he handed it to him.

John was looking skeptical as he took the bag and opened it. Pulling the contents out, he stared at the bottle and then at Bobby. "How'd you get this?"

"I-I, uh, I know a guy."

Alex tried to see what it was as she stepped to her dad's side and looked at it. She smirked over at Bobby as she said, "Bushmill's Irish Whiskey; I should have known you were up to something when you asked me what his favorite drink was."

Bobby nearly blushed as he looked down at the ground.

"This isn't just any bottle, Alex," her dad told her. "This is a 21 year old bottle. They only have a limited amount of these for sell every year. It's nearly impossible to get and the cost--"

"The cost...it," Bobby interrupted as he shook his head, "doesn't matter. I knew you would like it, so," he said with a shrug as he continued to stare down, probably at his shoes.

"What does it go for?" Alex asked her dad as he turned her bottle over and was reading the label.

John absently said, "A buck thirty."

Alex turned to Bobby and said in disbelief. "A hundred and thirty dollars? Bobby," she went to say when he shook his head.

"It's nothing." Bobby was starting to sidestep around in a small circle now as his nervous energy was increasing and his attention span was slipping.

Alex couldn't believe that she knew him so well that she could tell all that about him just by watching him move.

"Why did you get this?"

Bobby looked at her dad for a long moment before asking, "What?"

John was still marveling at the bottle as he asked again, "Why did you get this for me? It cost a lot and..." her dad gave him a suspicious look as his eyes narrowed at him. "You weren't trying to buy me were you?"

Alex couldn't believe he just asked that, and at Bobby of all people. "Dad, Bobby doesn't go around trying to buy people."

"Please, Alex," her dad strictly told her; she hadn't heard that tone since she was a child. "Let him answer."

Bobby was looking lost as she returned her gaze to him. The sunglasses were hiding his eyes, but she could tell by the way he worked his jaw and his face went slack, that he had no idea what to say. "I...don't," he shook his head slightly as he tried to figure out what his answer was. "Your daughter is right, Mr. Eames, I don't...buy, or bribe, people. I-I thought...I just, wanted to...um, get you something, Sir."

Alex was staring at him in concern as she felt sorry for him. Bobby was really feeling bad if he was being reduced to calling her father 'sir'. And he was obviously feeling embarrassed as his neck turned a light shade of red. His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck as his head bent forward a little. She could only imagine what he was thinking right now. Her father was a tough man to please having been a cop his whole life, but to question someone doing something as nice as getting him a gift...She couldn't remember her dad ever doing that. Not to anyone.

She turned to her dad, arms crossed, as she stared up at him. "What's the matter with you?"

Her dad didn't even flinch as he stared back down at her. He wasn't a tall man, but he was still a few inches taller than she was and he usually intimidated her. "Excuse me? Alex, honey, this is between me and him. Okay."

"Like hell it is," she snapped back. She glanced at Bobby who was staring at her in shock and not knowing what to do. "Look, I know that you're worried, and given the circumstances, maybe you should be, but you don't. And I'm not going to stand by as you make Bobby feel like shit when he could have not gotten you anything at all. He was being considerate, and he was trying, really trying, and for him that's something."

"He's never tried before. What's he trying to get out of doing it now?" John turned back to Bobby as he directed the question at him. "Well?"

Bobby was shocked still and Alex couldn't blame him as he suddenly turned and walked away.

"Damn it, Bobby," Alex shouted as she glared at her father before following him.

* * *

He couldn't breathe. There wasn't a single breath of air leaving his lungs as he headed back to his car. Alex's voice was barely heard as his head was buzzing with her father's words. What did he do to deserve that? Not a damn thing!

On the drive to the house, Bobby had hoped that everything would be okay. That her family would be at least able to stand hi, being there and actually try to get to know him. He was an idiot to even think that. It had been too long. Because of his damn insecurities, he had turned her family against him. And her father hated him and he thought he was after something or trying to...

He had no idea what he was thinking, but it wasn't good.

Bobby reached his car at the same time Alex grabbed him. She pulled him back as she slid in-between him and the car, keeping him from opening the door. "Move," he said as a rush of air left his burning lungs.

"Bobby," she was pleading with him, and he didn't like that. Not at all.

"I tried. I'm not staying," Bobby told her what he had been thinking and feeling. "What your dad said...I've..." he shook his head as he pulled out his keys and eyed her again.

"You've what?"

Bobby took a deep breath as he steadied his anger. "I haven't been...embarrassed like that...not since, my own father. And, with this...shame...I-I, can't." _God, was that even a sentence? _He was starting to shake and his jaw was flexing as he felt the pent up energy coursing through him.

Alex placed her hands on the sides of his neck and pulled him to her. He caught himself from falling forward by placing his hands on the car on either side of her head. Bobby's chest was hurting as his breathing became ragged. His forehead rested on hers as she massaged his neck and then his shoulders. The tension wasn't going to leave his body; he was too angry still.

Her breathing was soft, and it was calming. He tried to focus on her and not his racing pulse as he took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. Alex was staring up at him with so much sympathy it sent a new wave of anger through him. She shouldn't be looking at that because of her family. Family was family, and to her it was special, and delicate, and...loving.

"If you leave now, there won't be another time. You understand?"

Bobby closed his eyes and nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby. I had no idea he was going to be that tough with you."

"Don't be sorry," he bitterly told her. He shook his head slowly on her forehead as he opened his eyes. Alex's stare was one of concern yet of love and understanding. Bobby smiled a little. "I...I brought it on myself. I shouldn't...I mean, I knew it would be hard, and I knew that...that, um...Let's just say I wasn't expecting any hugs, okay."

"He ridiculed you. I still can't believe he did that."

"I can," Bobby simply told her. He was so used to that kind of reaction, especially from fathers that he shouldn't have expected anything less.

Alex pushed him a little, taking him by surprise. "Don't do that. I love my dad, but I know as well as anybody how much of a hard-ass he can be. What my father said was inexcusable, Bobby, you understand me?"

Bobby was unwavering. He knew that she would be pissed at her father just as he knew that she would stick up for him, but she shouldn't have to go to bat for him with her father, or anyone else. "Wha-what do you want me to do?" he asked, changing the subject. Her father could hate him all he wanted, but if Alex wanted him to stay, he would. He would endure, for her he would do just about anything.

Alex was quiet as she thought about it. She was watching him closely before glancing around him at her family who were all probably watching them now. "I...Bobby, I want..." she took a breath and shook her head. "This is your decision."

"No, it's yours. What do you want me to do?" he asked again, emphasizing the words as he said them.

As he waited for her to answer, he was starting to feeling the fear and uncertainty creeping up again. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that he was right. They were all watching them. Frowning, he looked back at her and knew what her answer was, she just couldn't voice it because she didn't want him to be put into anymore hostile situations. However, she wanted him to meet her family and maybe after all the hostility died down, they would be okay.

Bobby nodded a little. "I'll stay."

Alex frowned up at him and rubbed at her forehead. "Bobby, you--"

"Alex," he cut her off as he leaned his head down a little and slid off his sunglasses. His eyes were sincere and full of understanding as he told her, "I said that I'm staying. This, it's important to you, right? So...whether good or bad, I'm not going anywhere."

TBC...part 2


	8. Saturday, October 9, 2004pt2

_211 Harbor Bay Road_

_Oyster Bay, Long Island_

"They don't know."

Bobby stared into her warm brown eyes as he silently asked his question.

Alex looked around him and at the people gathered to see what he did. "They don't know anything about you. I haven't told them anything. They know that something is wrong with your mom, but they don't know the details. You've got to understand that they may unintentionally hurt you, like what my dad just did." She took a deep breath before telling him, "If it had been anyone else, we would have been gone by now, but I know my dad and he's going to feel like crap once he finds out that he hurt you as deeply as he did."

Bobby nodded in understanding. He was used to people saying things to him that inadvertently caused him pain, but they were suspects or witnesses so their words never cut as deeply as John Eames words had. He had let down his guard a little knowing that he had to open himself up around the people Alex valued more than anything, and he had paid for it already.

"Everything okay here?"

Bobby turned at the man's voice behind him. He was looking at a man that was only an inch shorter than he was with salt-and-pepper hair, light brown eyes, and facial features that reminded him of Alex's father. It was her older brother, Richard. He straightened and looked at Alex before turning back to her brother.

"Everything's fine, Rich," Alex told him. "Bobby just needed a little pep talk after what dad said to him."

Richard looked like a firefighter as his muscular built was even noticeable under the gray FDNY shirt he was wearing and his stare was as hard as his fathers'. Bracing himself for some sort of confrontation, with his legs firmly set on the ground and hands tight at his sides, Bobby was surprised when Richard stepped back and nodded a little.

"Okay," he said with a warm smile to Alex before he looked at him. "Holy shit; did dad do that?"

Bobby was confused at what he was talking about until Rich pointed to his eye. "Ah, no, a murderer did."

Rich blinked at that and looked down at Alex and looked her over. Once he was satisfied that Alex was okay, he told him, "I know Dad can be a little hard, especially when it comes to Alex here, but I didn't think he would hit you, but..." he shrugged a little, "he can be overprotective of her sometimes. You know how father's can be."

Bobby really didn't know personally, but he understood well enough from what he had seen while working with the PD, so he nodded anyway.

"I'm Rich."

He already knew his name; Bobby knew who everyone was from the pictures in Alex's house, but he shook Rich's hand and said, "Rich, I'm Bobby." He smiled a little and glanced at Alex who was looking better, happier, as she smiled back at him. Okay, maybe this wasn't a lost cause. "Um," he gestured toward the house about fifty yards away, "think I can get a drink?"

Rich started laughing as they headed for the house. "I think you better or else you won't last an hour."

He felt a hand on his arm and looked to his left side to see Alex walking in-step with him. "I like your brother."

Alex smirked a little as she said, "Him and Angie are the easy ones, they take after mom. It's Liz and Junior you have to brace yourself for."

"I'm guessing they take after your father? What about you?"

Alex had a big grin and twinkle in her eye when she told him, "I'm a mixture of both."

Five minutes later, Bobby was wondering if he had made a mistake in staying. Standing in the kitchen holding a bottle of beer in a death grip with his left hand as he stuffed his right into the pocket of his jeans, his head was starting to hurt at all the commotion around him. He watched as the twins kept running in and out of the back door for the seventh time (he had been counting) while Emily and Angie were setting bowls and containers filled with food out on the counters. John and John Jr. were out on the back patio grilling burgers, hotdogs, and steaks, and Liz was staring at him like he was the strangest thing on earth as she sipped on a wine cooler and leaned against the counter opposite from the one he was leaning against.

Every now and then, someone would come into the kitchen and give him a smile before grabbing a drink or a plate of food before heading back outside again. The two teenagers were nowhere to be seen, probably being the only sane ones by hiding out in an upstairs bedroom instead of being amongst this chaos.

Rich was outside yelling for the twins to stop running around and driving the adults crazy as he prepared the boat for the trip he had planned for them. His wife, Melissa, was helping him by trying to settle the girls down long enough to get their bathing suits and floaties on. Angie's husband Mike and Liz's husband Terry were putting together a volleyball net in the middle of the big yard, but it wasn't exactly straight and stable just yet as it kept tipping over.

Bobby took a sip of the beer and wondered where Alex had gone and why she had left him alone.

So far, the women had been nice to him when he met them. Emily, Alex's mom, was just happy that she got to meet him and Angie was as sweet as Emily had been yet a little apprehensive. Liz, on the other hand, was unreadable. She was nice, but she had been also distant and he wondered what she was thinking as she kept staring at him.

Bobby wasn't uncomfortable with her stare, he was just curious as to why she was doing it and what she was thinking. Clearing his throat, he asked, "You're the one with Nathan, right?"

Liz gave a nod. "Yeah. Alex is with him now, along with Stephanie, Junior's wife."

Bobby took another sip of his beer as he wondered which room that was in the big house. "So, um, what do you do?"

Liz gave him a look that reminded him way too much of Alex and he was again struck by how much the two youngest Eames girls looked alike. "Besides staying at home with Nate, I'm taking classes to be a Pediatric Nurse."

He didn't think, he just asked, "Did you decide to do that because you couldn't have your own children?" Bobby suddenly snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes at the look on her face, and her mother and sisters'. Opening his eyes to the three stunned women, he mumbled, "I'm sorry...I, didn't mean it to sound...Excuse me," he took a long drink of the beer and left the room quickly in search of Alex.

Alex was in a downstairs bedroom, off the living room, and she was holding the sleeping boy to her chest as he softly opened the door and peered in. At the sight of her with her nephew, Bobby felt a wave of sadness and admiration for her.

She looked up at him and asked with a groan, "What happened?"

Bobby blinked back her ability to read him so well as he closed the door behind him. "I-I, uh...I said the wrong thing to your sister Liz in the kitchen."

Alex chuckled as she shook her head. "You look like a deer caught in the headlights. Sit down before you fall over."

Bobby slowly made his way to the bed and sat down beside her. He looked around and noticed they were alone. "I thought Stephanie was in here with you?"

"She was. She just went to the bathroom." Alex looked over at him and asked, "Wanna hold him?"

Bobby stared at her like she had asked him if he was a murderer. "What?"

Alex smiled as she told him, "Hold out your arms like this," she said as she showed him how her arms were positioned in front of her.

Bobby was reluctant to do it, but he finally sat his bottle down and did as she asked. Alex stood in front of him and slowly, and as easily as she could, laid the little boy in his arms. His breath caught in his lungs as he looked down at Nathan fast asleep against his chest.

"See, that wasn't so bad. And it might be a good idea to breathe, Bobby."

He glared up at her and then returned his eyes to the small little boy. Nathan had light brown hair and so far, he was looking like his mother, and because of that, he was also looking like Alex.

"Have you ever held a baby before?"

Bobby shook his head at the question. "Not one this young. I've held a couple of kids on the job, but...I've never..." he looked up at her and frowned slightly. "My brother doesn't have any kids; at least...I don't think he does." At the look he saw in her eyes, he quickly added, "Don't get any ideas, Eames."

She smiled at him and shook her head. "I'm not, just...I wish I had a camera. Oh, wait, I do," she said as she pulled out her cell phone. "Hold still."

Bobby glared at her but couldn't help the small smile on his face as he looked back down at Nathan. He stirred in his arms and he once again froze, his breath gripping his throat, as the boy opened his eyes and looked up at him with light brown eyes as innocent as he had even seen.

Nathan didn't seemed bothered at all by waking up to be looking at a man he didn't know as he yawn and looked around as Alex come toward him. At spotting Aunt Alex, the boy's eyes lit up and he held out his arms for her to take him.

"Hey, buddy," Alex happily greeted him as she took the boy from his arms. "Did you have a good nap."

Nathan gave her a big hug around her neck and then looked back at him and pointed. "'Oo?"

Alex smiled at him as she told her nephew, "That's Bobby, remember me telling you about him?"

Nathan was rubbing at his eyes as he yawned again before saying, "Bop."

Bobby's head was getting dizzy as his heart soared at that. He was Bop, and for some reason that sounded like the best thing in the world.

Alex put him down on the floor once Nathan started squirming in her arms. The boy suddenly took off on a dead run to him. Bobby barely got his arms out in time to catch the him as he gave him a tight hug around his waist before heading to the door and trying to reach the handle.

"This kid just started to walk two days ago. I told Liz he wouldn't walk for long, and I was right."

Bobby watched as once Alex opened the door, Nathan was out the door and half way to the kitchen before he had time to grab his beer and follow.

* * *

Bobby was unusually quiet as they ate with the family out on the back patio. Alex had noticed that once they left the room with Nathan, he hadn't spoken a word. Liz had told her what Bobby had asked and Alex couldn't believe he had done that, but that was Bobby. Sometimes he didn't think about upsetting people with his questions, he was honestly asking out of pure curiosity.

Leaning over to him, she asked, "You doing all right?"

Bobby was staring down at his food as he nodded. "Fine."

"You don't look fine."

His eyes met hers before he glanced around at the family who were all involved in conversation with one another. They were taking about the past, and memories they had of their time together as kids. Alex knew that she wasn't going to get anymore from him right then, so she turned back to her brother Junior who was laughing about the time they had sent him down to the kitchen to snick Christmas cookies back up to her and Liz. The thing was, they had tied a rope around him and lowered him down the laundry shoot, but they couldn't pull him back up.

"When mom came into the kitchen and saw me tied to that rope with a shirt full of cookies, I thought she was going to blowup her face was so red."

Alex was laughing along with Liz at that. They had a lot fun with their younger brother in the house they grew up in in Queens. She was about to tell of the Christmas when Liz had thought she was responsible for them not getting presents because their dad had decided to teach Liz a lesson about peaking into the presents, when she heard her father ask,

"Bobby, you got any stories to share?"

Alex looked to Bobby at the same time everyone else did, and the look on his face was one of pure shock.

Bobby blinked back and looked at her as he shook his head. "No, sir."

Alex frowned; he was still feeling intimidated and scared of her father. "Bobby..."

"Alex," John cut her off again. He turned back to Bobby and asked, "What'd your parents do?"

Bobby swallowed a sip of his drink, his second beer. He was quiet for a moment as he fingered the bottle as he sat it down. "Um...my mother was a librarian."

When that was all he said, John asked, "And your father?"

Bobby shrugged. "He...um, bounced around a lot, from job to job. Nothing stuck."

"They still together?"

At that, Bobby visibly froze as he shook his head. "They divorced when I was eleven," Bobby told her father. "And, my father died a while ago." He took another, longer, drink from the bottle as he stared back down at his plate.

"Your mom's crazy, right?"

Alex closed her eyes before glaring at Liz. She couldn't help but wonder if Liz asked that to get back at Bobby bringing up the fact that she couldn't have children, but shook her head. Liz wasn't a spiteful person; she just didn't know when to shut-up, much like Bobby. Looking back at Bobby, she saw him looking at Liz too, but he wasn't pissed at her like she was. She couldn't read his expression; he had shut down.

"She's schizophrenic," he confirmed with no emotion at all.

Alex had never seen him like that except for when he was talking with Nicole Wallace. He was hiding from the emotions and the memories that she knew was assaulting him just then.

"Any siblings?"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably in the chair as he nodded. "A older brother, and, um...I-I don't know what he's doing. Excuse me," he suddenly said as he pushed back away from the table, grabbed his bottle, and walked into the house.

Alex looked around her family as they looked from one another and to her.

"Well, that went very badly," Junior announced when no one else said anything.

Her dad was looking right at her as he asked, "Is he always that sensitive?"

"John," Emily snapped at him.

John shrugged as he defended himself, "What? I was trying to get to know that guy and he takes off. What kind of man does that?"

"I think he's a very good man. Alex wouldn't have stayed with him for all this time if he wasn't."

John threw his napkin down and pushed back from the table. "A very good man who for a year and a half never bothered to be a part of this family."

"It's a wonder why?" Rich whispered to her as he gave her a knowing smile.

Alex was too pissed to share in her brother's humor; she wanted to go and see if Bobby was okay, but she knew that he needed to be alone and to be given some space. If she went in there now, he would just close himself off and push her away. She got up from the table and went up to her father, "Dad, come with me. Now."

She didn't look back to see if he was following her; Alex knew he was. Once she was away from everyone else, and no one could eavesdrop without her knowing about it, she turned around to face her dad.

John was standing in front of her, arms crossed, and had a wounded look on his face. He knew that he was in trouble. "Alex, honey," he went to say, "You have to understand."

"Oh, I understand. I understand that you don't trust my judgment."

He gapped at her before closing his mouth. "I trust you."

"Do you? Then you wouldn't have a problem with Bobby."

John uncrossed his arms and rubbed at his jaw. He was thinking. After a moment, he told her, "It's not like he's making it easy."

"Excuse me?" Alex stepped up to her dad and narrowed her eyes at him. John was taken back by the sudden anger that rose in her. "He's not doing anything to defy you; you're the one that-"

"What did I do?" he asked, interrupting her. "I asked about his family. I was trying to get to know him, and he took off. How is talking to the guy a bad thing?"

Alex closed her eyes and cursed. Her dad was right; it shouldn't have been a bad thing. With anyone else, it wouldn't have been. Bobby was different; she knew a little about his past and knew well enough to leave it alone until he decided to tell her himself. She had never tried to push when it came to his past except when he had a problem with something and she was trying to understand why, like his refusing to met her family. And now, he was here, and she was wishing that she hadn't had pushed him so hard. It was obvious that he wasn't ready for this.

John was waiting for an answer, and she had no idea what to tell him. Her dad was just being a normal worried parent. He had been trying to protect her ever since she was born, and after Joe passed, he had really been more concerned with the men in her life. All of them had turned out to be liars and wrong for her.

The only thing she could think to say was, "You never had a problem with Bobby before."

Her dad sighed heavily and shook his head as he rubbed a hand over it. "Before. Alex, before he was just your partner. Before, the only thing I was worried about was him having your back."

Being a cop, her dad knew the implications of dating one. When it had been Joe, he was a little apprehensive but okay with it because they worked separate departments and were never partners. Dating your partner was different than just dating another cop, and since she was senior partner to Bobby, it was fraternization. That was cause for her, or both of them, to be fired.

Alex knew her father disapproved of that; he didn't want her job jeopardized because of this relationship. "What do you think? That this is just some...thing, a fling I'm having?"

John shrugged. "I have no idea what it is, but I do know that it better be worth it. He better be worth it, or else he's going to cause you to lose a lot, and I'm not just talking about your job. I'm concerned for your happiness too, Alex. It might not seem like it, but I am. I know how devastated you were when Joe died. I know what it has been like with every man since. And I know that so far, Bobby isn't shaping up to be any better than them."

She felt the anger rise back in her as she glared at her father. "Well, I'm sorry you think that. I really am, because Bobby may be different and not as sociable as most people, but at least he is honest. And any man who loves me enough to put himself through this shit that you're giving him without running and breaking my heart I think is well worth it." She took a moment to steady herself before saying, "And I know why he's being difficult, but it's not for me to say. If you want to talk to him, stop being so damn hostile. Stop acting like if he says the wrong thing you're going to humiliate him, again. And, you better apologize to him before he leaves tomorrow."

Alex left it at that as she walked by her dad and headed back to the house.

* * *

When Bobby had walked into the house, and through the kitchen, he wasn't expecting to see Eric, Rich's fifteen-year-old son, sitting on the couch in the living room playing a video game. He stood at the entryway for a moment just watching him and wondering if he should head out to the front porch or not.

Eric paused the game and looked over his shoulder at him. "Who are you again?"

"I'm Bobby, Alex's boyfriend," Bobby told him as he walked into the room. He gestured to the TV with his left hand that held his beer as he asked, "That the new Madden?"

Eric grinned as he returned to the game. "Yep, wanna play? I've got a second controller."

Bobby shrugged as he rounded the couch and sat down with the teen boy. "Sure."

Eric restarted the Play Station as he hooked up the second controller to the console and handed it to him. "Aren't you supposed to be out there with the rest of the adults?"

Bobby smirked as he took the controller and leaned back against the couch. "Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I have to always act like one."

Eric laughed as he chose a football team; he picked the New York Giants.

Bobby flipped through the teams and settled for the Indianapolis Colts. "Manning vs. Manning."

Eric glared over at him. "Just to let you know, Bobby, you're going down."

Bobby finally laughed as he shook his head.

They were in the middle of the fourth quarter with the score 21 to 17 in favor of the Giants when Eric warned him, "Just a heads up, but we're going to be trapped into going on a fishing trip with all the other men before it gets dark."

Bobby glanced over at Eric as he selected an offensive passing play. If he got this touchdown, he would win the game. "Thanks for the warning."

Eric nodded a little as he selected the same defensive play he had been choosing the whole game. "Ready to lose?"

Bobby gestured to the time on the game as he declared, "I've got ten seconds left, plenty of time to whoop your ass."

Eric was really laughing at him then as they resumed the game.

Bobby hit the buttons and watched as Payton Manning dropped back and threw a sixty-yard pass down the field. "Oh, oh...what's this? Manning to Wayne..." his receiver Reggie Wayne caught the ball just in front of the Giants player and ran into the end zone. "Touchdown!"

Eric groaned and threw down the controller. "Damn it."

Bobby was laughing as he got up and said, "I'll be back in a minute for a rematch."

He headed upstairs to the bedroom him and Alex were sharing and checked his cell that was on the dresser charging. There were two missed calls, one from his mother and the other from Detective Benson. Bobby quickly checked the messaged she left him and frowned after hearing that they had proposed Alex's idea to the FBI but they had declined their theory. Benson didn't say why, but from the bitterness and tension in her voice he knew that the FBI probably criticized not only them but also Stabler and Benson for even proposing it.

Rubbing at his head, he snapped his cell shut and nearly slammed it back down. He had helped to work that case, gotten pretty far into the killer's head to figure out the profile and that it might be a cop, and he had found out what kind of knife was used, and the fucking FBI was taking it away from them. His mind wasn't going to drop the case; he was still dreaming about it, his mind was still going over the evidence and possible courses of action, so there was no possible way he could just abandon it.

Flipping his phone open, he dialed Benson's number as he sat down on the bed. Bobby wasn't expecting her to answer so he waited for the voicemail to come on. "Hey, Detective Benson, it's Goren. I got your message. All I've got to say to that is 'fuck the FBI'. Listen, I'm...I want to continue working the case, off the clock. Eames does too. So, I was thinking, Sunday night we can all meet up and discuss what to do. I'll let you know when and where exactly after I talk to Eames. Okay...talk to you later."

Bobby stared at his cell for a moment after he made the call. Hopefully the SVU detectives wouldn't mind his offer to continue working the case. He needed to finish it; he had made a promise thirty years ago to himself and he was going to keep it, especially when he was this close to finding the killer.

As he got up off the bed, he heard voices out in the hallway. Liz and Stephanie were coming down the hallway. Bobby froze as he went to open the bedroom door all the way and leave as he heard what Liz was talking about. She was talking about him.

"...I can't believe he asked you that? He must not really care if he he's not concerned with hurting your feelings."

"I don't know," Liz said as she neared the door. "Alex did tell me he unintentionally hurts her feelings because she says that he can't or don't know how to relate sometimes. I think it's just an excuse, _no one_ is that clueless."

Stephanie huffed out a laugh as she teasingly asked, "Tell me what you really think?"

"I will tell you this: Alex was right. Bobby is definitely no Joe. I still don't know what she sees in him, other than his good looks of course."

_He was no Joe. _

Bobby forgot how to breathe as his hand gripped the doorknob until his knuckles turned white. Was...was that what she really thought and felt? And what did she mean when she said that he had unintentionally hurt Alex? His chest started to hurt along with his left hand that was trembling from its death grip.

Releasing the doorknob, he stepped back a few feet and ran the throbbing hand through his hair. He moved back until the back of his leg hit the bed and he sat down hard, burying his head in his hands. He knew that Alex still held strong feelings for her husband, but he had no idea she was criticizing him for not being like him, and that she was talking about it with her sister.

Bobby didn't know how long he sat there until he heard Eric's voice outside the door.

"Hey, Bobby? Are we going to play or what?"

He looked up at the door and groaned. Rationally, he knew that he couldn't just sit there all day, even though his mind wanted to do just that: think; and thinking usually caused him to get into a lot of trouble. Bobby took a moment to get his body to move and mind to quiet enough for him to feel safe enough to open the door.

His mind didn't stay quiet for long. All through the second game with Eric, he couldn't concentrate on the game but he kept thinking about what Liz had said, and what Alex had told her. Eric beat him easily, and he didn't care.

Bobby smiled over at the kid and told him, "Good game."

Eric tossed the controller onto the table and as cocky as he could said, "Now whose ass was whooped?"

"Hey."

They both jumped at the sound of Alex's voice behind them. Bobby watched as Alex leaned over the back of the couch between him and Eric.

She turned to her oldest nephew and told him, "You need to watch your mouth before your dad hears you."

Eric blushed as he mumbled, "Yes, Aunt Alex," before he turned off the Play Station and went to leave the room.

Bobby glanced at Alex who had an amused smile on her face. Once Eric was out of the room, he leaned closer to her and kissed her on the lips. "You didn't tell me that I would have to go fishing."

"I knew I forgot to tell you something." She was looking more amused as she teased him. "Or else I would have told you to wear boots."

"Uh-huh," Bobby grabbed her around the waist and pulled her over the couch. She yelp but didn't put up much of a struggle as he held her tightly against the cushions. He was about to kiss her again when he heard Eric's voice coming from the kitchen.

"Whoa! Whose Mustang?"

Bobby shook his head and mumbled, "I hope that kid doesn't become a cop; he's clueless to his surroundings."

Alex chuckled as he let her up off the couch. "And he obviously can't reason it out that it has to be yours when he knows who all the other cars belong to."

Bobby headed into the kitchen and smiled at Eric "That's mine."

"Nice," he said as he stared at it out the window.

The back door opened and Rich stuck his head in. "You guys ready to go fishing."

Eric groaned but followed after his dad.

Bobby looked down at Alex and asked, "Do I really have to go?"

"If you know what's good for you."

* * *

Bobby had his elements, and this wasn't one of them.

He was standing on a shore at the Atlantic Ocean where John had docked the boat staring at a open-faced fishing pole that he had no idea how to use. The bait, which consisted of bloodworms, squid, mullet strips, and live minnows, was too strong for his sensitive sense of smell that it was nearly making him gag. He didn't even like to eat fish or any kind of seafood, so why would he want to go through the trouble of trying to catch it? He looked around him at the other men on the shore and frowned at the easiness of the group at not only talking to each other, but of being able to cast a line out into the ocean.

So far, he hated fishing.

The pole felt all wrong, having been made for a right handed person like everything else in the world, and he couldn't keep the line from dropping to the ground when he released the restraining bar. He reeled the line back up as he looked at the bait that he didn't want to touch unless he had on a pair of latex gloves, and decided on the least disgusting, the minnows.

He could poke a dead man's eyeball, sniff into a corpse mouth, and touch any open wound on a dead body, but he couldn't bait a damn fishing hook without feeling sick to his stomach. Bobby finally got the little fish on the hook and took hold of the end of the pole. Releasing the line, it hit the ground again and he cursed under his breath as he reeled it back up. He knew he was doing it wrong, but he had no idea what he was doing wrong. Watching people fish was completely different than doing the actual task, and he had only in the past watched.

Bobby glanced at Mike who was standing near him and watched him cast his line back out. He saw him hold the line to the pole with his thumb to keep it from unraveling when he released the bar. Doing it the same way, he smiled to himself when he released it and the line didn't fall to the ground.

Now, he had to cast it into the ocean. Bobby drew the pole back like he would a baseball bat, and when he brought it forward, let go of the line. It went straight up in the air and dropped a few feet from him. He was really starting to get pissed off now.

Reeling the line back in, he felt the eyes of the other guys on him. He glanced over to his right and saw them all watching him. Junior had an amused grin on his face as he shook his head at him. Eric didn't know what to think as he watched him with confusion. Mike and Terry both asked if he was okay at the same time, and Rich sat his pole down and was coming toward him. That was until John stopped him as he had already put his pole down and started for him.

Bobby looked back at the pole as he tried to push the overwhelming sense of disappointment and embarrassment down that he hadn't felt since he was kid for not doing anything right according to his father.

John stopped next to him and said, "You're doing it wrong."

Bobby nodded tightly as he waited for the ridicule to come.

"You're a lefty, so, do it this way." John took the rod from him and showed him how to do it with the pole turned upside down. When he drew it back, he told him, "And when you go to cast it, let go when you get about here, like you would if you were throwing a sideways pitch."

Bobby watched him closely as he showed him how to do it. "Yeah, uh...thanks," he said once John handed it back to him.

"Your father never took you fishing?"

Bobby shook his head as he released the line and held onto it with his thumb. "No, he was more of a, uh...ah hunter."

"So, he took you hunting."

Bobby once again shook his head. "He didn't do that either." The only person he had been hunting with was Declan Gage, and he wasn't about to go into all of that with John at the moment. He drew back and did it the way John showed him and then swung it sideways, letting go at the right time and watched as the line flew out into the dark water. Smiling he looked back at John as he told him, "That was fun."

John huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Wait until the line starts pulling you, then you'll really have some fun." He went to walk away when he turned back. "Have a drink with me when we get back."

Bobby stared at Alex's father for a moment as he swallowed hard. This was a sudden turn of events, and he had no idea what to think of it. He nodded a little saying, "Okay."

A couple of minutes later, he looked over at Mike and asked, "How, uh...how long does it usually take?"

Mike was confused for a moment before he asked, "What, to catch a fish?" When Bobby nodded, he laughed. "However long it takes for one to snag your line. Could be minutes, could be hours, or...it could be never."

Bobby looked back out at the ocean and shook his head. He heard someone walk around behind him and watched as Eric took a spot on his left to re-cast in his line. "Just to warn you, I'm left handed, so...watch out."

Eric moved a few feet away before saying, "That was nice of my grandpa to teach you."

Bobby nodded. "You know, I used to work on the docks when I was about your age."

"Oh yeah?" Eric asked.

Bobby smiled slightly as he nodded. "I can't fish, and I don't eat it...but I can tell you what everything is and the best spot to catch it."

"Huh, I've been fishing for years, but I can't tell a catfish from a flounder."

Bobby stared at Eric for a long moment before saying, "Uh, catfish live in freshwater."

"Oh," Eric said after he stared back at him, "don't I feel like an idiot."

"I didn't mean to...to, uh, sound patronizing. Sorry," Bobby mumbled before he looked back out into the depths of the ocean. "I was in the military too," he suddenly told Mike who was to his right. "Army."

After a couple of minutes of talking about their experiences in the military, Bobby was finally about to breathe a sigh of relief. Then, a few minutes after that, his line jerked and then took off.

* * *

Alex was trying hard not to laugh as he followed behind the group as they led the way up the shore and to the house. Bobby frowned as Alex met him before he even stepped foot off the sand.

She took the fishing pole from him and asked, "How was it?"

Bobby glared at her as he wrapped and arm around her waist as they slowly made their way to the house. His partly wet from his chest down to his feet. The shoes he was wearing were muddy and he was sure ruined, and his hands smelled horrible. A hot shower was the only thing on his mind as he shook his head at her chuckling against his chest. "I at least had something snag my line."

"What was it?"

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know; as soon as I got it close enough for Terry to try and catch it in the net, my line broke."

"Sorry," she was still laughing.

"It's not funny."

Alex nodded a little her eyes were twinkling and her face was getting red as she held back her laughter.

Bobby let her go as he headed up the steps to the back porch. "Go 'head, laugh all you want, but I had fun."

Alex smiled up at him as she stopped and leaned on the railing. "I'm glad you had fun. And there's a couple of bathrooms, so find one and take a shower. You stink."

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her and started back to her, but she was faster as she ran a couple of yards from him. "Better run."

Alex was really laughing hard as Bobby went to open the door. He pulled out his car keys and threw them to Alex. "My bag is in the car; can you get it for me, please?" Then he opened the door and went inside.

* * *

The sun was almost completely set over the bay as Bobby stared out across the bay. It had been years, not since he was stationed in Korea, when he last saw the sun setting over a body of water. The sight was beautiful, calming, and he couldn't take his eyes off it.

There was a breeze coming off the bay and it was cool, making him shiver slightly as he leaned forward in the chair, getting a little closer to the bonfire that was burning between him and the family having fun playing a game of volleyball. It wouldn't have been an even five-on-five if he played, so he volunteered to sit the game out. He didn't feel like playing anyway, and he hadn't played since he was in the Army and even then he wasn't any good.

He heard someone come up behind him; as he turned, he saw Alex's dad next to his chair.

John tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to the house. "Let's have that drink now."

Bobby got up and went to follow. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Alex watching them before she had to pay attention to the game.

The fireplace in the living room burned the bundle of logs that was next to the house. Bobby was comforted by the warmth as he sat on the edge of the recliner as John brought in two glasses from the kitchen and the bottle of Irish whiskey he had gotten him.

"I thought, since you got it for me, we should have the first drink."

Bobby smiled gratefully as he watched John fill the glass he was holding before filling his own. He waited as John sat on the couch and studied his glass before raising it.

"To...my daughter, Alex."

Bobby couldn't think of anything better to toast to, and the whiskey burned a warmth down his throat that made everything better.

"So," John asked after he drank half the glass. "What happened to your eye?"

Bobby shook his head and took another drink. "A, um, murderer. After I got his confession, he attacked me."

"What happened? Did Alex get hurt?"

Bobby quickly shook his head. "No. The guy, he, uh...sucker punched me and when he drew back to try for another hit, Alex, she, stormed into the room and grab him. She twisted his arm behind his back, which really pissed him off. When he turned toward her, I grabbed him around the shoulders and threw him into the wall and held him there until we could cuff him."

John was quiet as he finished telling him what happened. He was looking at him, much like Bobby suspected he used to look at suspects, and then nodded a little. "She's tough."

Bobby had to smile at that. Alex was indeed the toughest and strongest person he had ever met. "Yeah, she is."

He sat back in the recliner and nursed the glass in his hand as he stared into it like it could help him figure out what to say. He felt as nervous as he had ever been since meeting John that afternoon. It was almost ridiculous that a six-foot-four grown man could be intimidated as badly as he was right then, especially to older man who was barely five-seven.

Bobby was certain he knew what John wanted to talk about, but he wasn't about to say anything until he asked him. Glancing up at his girlfriend/partner's dad, he saw how apprehensive he was. For the first time, he was struck by the thought that maybe John was just as nervous as he was. "Mr. Eames-"

"Call me John, Bobby; there's no reason to be formal."

Bobby felt that as small victory for some reason; he smiled slightly at that as he sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "John, I, uh...I don't know what you want me to say."

John had a great poker face because Bobby couldn't read him at all. He bet that John was a hard cop to figure. It was no wonder Alex could be just as hard to figure out growing up with this man as her father.

"I don't know either," John said after he shifted on the couch so he could looked at him head on. "I know what I would like to hear, but...you're not going to say none of them, are you?"

It was Bobby's turn to shift in his seat. This was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. He looked toward the fireplace and stared into the hot flames as he felt the heat consume him. There was no connection between him and Alex's dad; if he was anywhere else, and if John was any other man, he would have gotten up and walked out by now. Alex would understand, but she would also be disappointed that he couldn't get along with her father and vice versa.

Bobby was reminded of all the father figures he had come to know in his life; hardly any were any good. Declan was the first positive influence in his life, but it had come with a cost. He hadn't seen Gage in almost eight years, only talking to him every so often on the phone. His mentor was just as much as a workaholic as he was. The second, and only other positive fatherly influence he had, was Captain Deakins. The problem there was that Deakins didn't even know it, and he was never going to tell him. He was afraid of the what the Captain would tell him; he was afraid of his rejection.

His bottom lip started to hurt as he bite it in thought. What was he going to say to John Eames? Bobby shuddered at the thought of telling him anything personal in fear of ridicule or embarrassment, and then the guilt and shame that always followed. He hated feeling those things, that was why he always got so angry afterwards. He would rather be angry then any of those things.

Bobby took a gulp of the whiskey and shook his head. "I'm sorry, John, but...I, uh...I don't trust you." That was so honest it hurt him to say it, but he never thought about how much it hurt John to hear it. Those things never occurred to him.

John was so still and quiet, Bobby thought he had fallen asleep. Then, he asked in a somber soft whisper, "Why don't you trust me?"

"I..." Bobby had to take another drink, finishing it off, before he continued. The warmth of the whiskey was spreading through him, relaxing his tense muscles as he said, "I have a, ah...hard time, trusting."

"Because of your parents." John was leaning forward now, getting closer to him so he could look into his eyes.

Bobby nodded as he swirled the empty glass in his hands. "How could I trust a schizophrenic when all the truths she ever told me were lies? And...my father," he shook his head. "I couldn't even trust him to, to love me like...like I was his son." He stared a John for a long moment and saw the sudden sympathy fill the old man's eyes. He was biting his bottom lip again as he debated if he had said too much already or continue. "The only person, the only...woman, I have ever trusted is...your daughter." He smiled slightly at the thought of her. He could picture her outside, laughing and having a good time with her family. "But, um..." he had to clear his throat to keep it from cracking, "It, uh...seems to me that, that everyone...It doesn't matter what I think, or feel...it's...all about Joe, right? No one will ever come close to being to her, or to her family, as what he was. All...all I can ask for is that...that, she...lets me have just, have a fraction of the time and, love, that...that she had given him..."

That was either the best or the worst glass of whiskey in his life. Bobby stared at the floor and frowned at the fogginess in his head. Did he just say all of that? At the moment, he was too tired and relaxed to care.

He slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen before turning back to face John. Bobby looked the man over, not being able to read him, he rubbed a hand through his hair as he said, "You...you don't need to, apologize for earlier. I...uh, I'm at fault. I had, avoided your family for so long...I'm just...as Alex would say, impossible." With that, he turned and walked into the kitchen.

After cleaning out his glass and putting it back up, Bobby left the house and made his way back across the yard. The volleyball game had ended and Alex was sitting in the chair he had once occupied. Tapping her on the shoulder as he walked by, Bobby motioned for her to come with him.

The bay's shore was dark as the moon wasn't high enough to lighten the sky. Bobby walked up to where the waves were washing over the sand as he waited for Alex to catch up to him. He hadn't kept his strides light and slow as he usually did when he walked with her. His mind was still reeling with what he had told her dad, and it was burning with the thoughts of what Liz had said in the hallway.

The sadness of their situation caught up with him again and he had to close his eyes and swallow hard around the lump in his throat. There he was, a emotionally damaged man who could never trust his own emotions yet alone anyone else's, trying to be with a woman who was still emotionally wrapped up in her dead husband to have a good relationship with a man since for fear of falling in love again.

Maybe they deserved each other. Or, maybe, she deserved better and he deserved being alone. It wouldn't be a new thought, or an unfamiliar feeling. He was always alone, even when he was with a woman he was still alone. There were times with Alex when he had felt alone, but not as many as with any other woman he had been with. With Alex, he had really tried; however, he knew he wasn't doing the right things and apparently he wasn't trying hard enough or fast enough for her or the rest of her family.

He was disappointing them, and her. Bobby wouldn't be surprised if Alex left him after this weekend. After all, he had been expecting her to leave this whole time. And Alex had never disappointed him.

"Hey you," Alex said as she slid up beside him. "How'd it go?"

Bobby looked down at her and knew that she couldn't see the somber, haunted expression on his face. "I, uh...told him the truth, answered his questions."

"And?"

Bobby shrugged. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Alex hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Are you? You sound...distant."

He wasn't surprised that she was able to pick up on his mood by hearing his voice. Alex could always tell when he wasn't all there. "Just...thinking. Benson called, the FBI doesn't want us back. I, uh...I told her we still wanted to work it, off the clock. We might, um, get together Sunday night to discuss things."

Alex wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a hug before rubbing her hand up and down his back. "Okay. I'll call her tomorrow and see when would be the best time and where. You usually leave your mother around..."

At the word 'leave' his back tensed and he knew she felt it as her voice drifted off. Bobby shrugged her arm off him as he turned and headed back up the shore, toward the yard. "I get done around four. So, any time after seven is fine."

He didn't give her time to ask him anything as he walked as fast as he could up to the house. Bobby headed straight for the bedroom and shut the door. He needed to be alone as his mind spun out of his control.

TBC...


	9. Sunday, October 10, 2004

**A/N:** Here's another chapter for all you wonderful readers and reviewers!

* * *

_211 Harbor Bay Road_

He was in a world of pain. The ramifications of Tim Landy's abuse on him radiated throughout his whole body. His right side was aching from his knee up to his shoulder and across the back of his neck. Tension in his left hand was starting to throb from him overusing it that afternoon. However, the worse was his back. It felt like he was lying on a bed of burning coals instead of on cool cotton sheets over a soft mattress.

The pain never completely stopped; it was always a constant reminder of his torture. Sometimes throughout the day the pain would die down to a dull ache only to flare up again when he got physical with a suspect or just having to walk all over the city. Douglas made it worse by slamming his back into a wall. His back was one of the major sources of his pain and it was hard to remain still on the bed as he stared up at the ceiling.

It was going on two in the morning, and he had yet to fall asleep. Bouts of insomnia were nothing new to him, but the cause for the lack of sleep wasn't something he had to deal with for years. It had been two years since his mind was filled with the memories of his father. Not since Dan Croydon and 'the evil bitch from Hell' Nicole Wallace had he let his mind into that torturous well of misery. It pained him deeply that this time it was Alex's father who sparked the misery to take hold of the mind that he could not shut down.

This was why he was itching to get up and pour himself another glass of that whiskey he had gotten John. He liked to drink sometimes, but he could do without it if his head wasn't so messed up all the time. It was the only way he could subdue the voices in his head that were, unlike his mother's imaginary ones, real.

And they were all too real just then.

Rolling out of bed, he looked back at Alex who was buried under the covers and fast asleep before he opened the door and ventured down to the kitchen. It was quiet in the big house with everyone having turned in for the night just a few hours ago. He was the first to 'go to bed'; right after he left Alex on the shore, he had gone into the bedroom and didn't come out for the rest of the night.

Alex had covered for him, telling everyone that he hadn't had much sleep in the past few days and he was exhausted, which was all true, but it wasn't the reason he had retreated to the room. He couldn't be around her family any longer; he had grown distant and he was no longer connected in events of the present. There was nothing he could do to stop the downward spiral. Once it started, he was doomed to relive whatever his mind threw at him. No amount of will or control could stop a mind that knew no boundaries.

Bobby had entered the kitchen and was pacing around the floor, from the back door to the entryway to the living room where he saw the twins fast asleep on the floor while Eric was sleeping on the pull out bed from the couch. The place on the floor that was for his sister, Heather, was empty.

He wondered briefly where she was before he turned to pace to the back door. His hand was igniting a fire on the back of his neck because he couldn't stop rubbing it out of pure restless habit. It took him a great deal of effort to stop his mindless pacing and go over to the cabinet and pull down a tall thin glass. Finding the whiskey on top of the refrigerator, he filled it nearly to the brim before placing the bottle back where he got it.

The first sip burned down his throat as he shivered slightly at the strength of the alcohol. Twenty-one year old whiskey was the really good stuff. He had no doubt in his mind that after this one glass he wouldn't be feeling any pain at all.

Opening the back door, he felt a different shiver run down his spine as the cold breeze assaulted his barely covered body. He only had on a white T-shirt and his flannel pajama pants, but it would be enough. The temperature was going to be in the high fifties and that was warm enough for him. Bobby stepped out onto the patio and it was then that it clicked in his head that the door had been unlocked. He heard movement off to his left and when he looked, he saw Heather sitting on the railing holding a wine cooler and smoking a cigarette.

He stared at the teen girl before he asked, "Could I get a cigarette off you?"

Heather didn't bat an eyelash as she tapped one out of her crumbled up pack for him. "I'll be eighteen in a week if that helps."

Bobby smirked a little and shook his head. "It does, a little, but...I'll be very, um, hypocritical if I ousted you to your parents. I started stealing smokes from my mother when I was eleven, and I had my first beer two years later."

Heather handed him her lighter as she told him, "Eric likes you, says that you played video games with him and you were really good, but...you can't fish for nothing."

Bobby huffed out a laugh, blowing out smoke as he handed the lighter back to the girl.

"He also says that grandpa freaks you out."

"It's not..." Bobby was confused on what to tell the granddaughter of the man who did freak him out. "Your grandfather..."

"He was a strict guy with his kids," she told him. "And he still can be. He's different with us though. He'll buy us anything we ask for and he always helps us when we need him; we can walk all over him and he wouldn't care because 'he's grandpa'. Aunt Alex, she told me that the only time he gave her money was fifty bucks for her prom dress."

Bobby remembered her telling him the same thing. "Yeah, and if she wanted her own stuff, she had to work for the money. That was why she was selling matches on the steps of City Hall in the dead of winter."

Heather smiled, amused at that. "She told you that?"

As he took a longer drag of the cigarette, he nodded. "It was also the reason she left when she was eighteen and started tending bar to afford to go to night school before she joined the Police Academy."

Heather watched him for a long moment before saying, "She's great. I told her once that I wanna be like her." She was silent as she took a sip of the drink before telling him, "I hope you don't turn out to be an asshole like all the others. I want her to be happy again."

Bobby was struck by the honesty of this girl that he barely knew. She reminded him of Alex, and that was a good thing. "Believe me, I'm trying very hard not to be an asshole. And, you're not the only one who wants her to be happy. Your whole family, they want to crucify me for her happiness."

That made Heather laugh a little. "They're just scared and worried. We're very close, you know. It might not seem that way when they argue, but they are, that's why some of them can be a little hard to deal with. They think they're helping, or showing their concern."

Bobby took a long drink from the glass as he let that settle into his troubled mind. He hadn't thought of that. They were quiet for a while as they each took each other in and drank their drinks. "If you give me another cigarette, I'll let you get back to defying your parent's rules all by yourself?"

She chuckled and shook her head as she pulled out two. "It's okay; I can't sleep either," she told him as she gave him two instead of one. "I broke up with my boyfriend on the phone a few hours ago."

Bobby lit one of the new cigarettes with the last of the old one in his mouth before putting it out. "Why, did he cheat on you?" When she only gave a curt nod, he told her, "Then...forget the cheatin' bastard; believe me, you deserve a guy way better than that." He then thanked her for the cigarettes and walked off the back patio and wandered around the dark empty yard.

The moon was full and it lit up the night just enough for him to see where he was going, which was to the shore. As he walked along the beach, head down with his glass in his left hand and cigarette in his mouth, his thoughts were once again bombarded with the painful memories of his past.

_"What took you so long to get home?" he heard his mother yell as soon as he spotted his dad coming through the front door._

_His dad was stumbling a little as he walked through the living room, tossing his jacket on the dining room chair as he passed it. He stayed where he was, under the table with his legs pulled up to his chest. Before his dad had gotten home, his mom had been angry again, yelling about the clicking sounds she heard in the phone. She had turned to him, and started blaming him for putting listening devices in the phone for the Soviet's and why her thoughts were being read by the man in the television. That the man was a Spy. _

_He had thought the man was a the news guy, telling of all the bad things going on in the city and around the world, but maybe he was a Spy and maybe someone was trying to listen in through the phone. His dad never told him different. When his mom had started throwing things at him, he hid under the table and covered his ears against the bad things she was telling him. They were things that made his heart hurt and body shake because he thought that she was right. He was evil. He was plotting against her with 'them'._

_Peeking around the table leg, and between the legs of the chairs that protected him, he watched as his dad pushed his mom away from him._

_"What'd you mean 'where I've been'?" he yelled back. "I've been working all damn day! Where's the fuck is dinner?" he asked as he gestured around the kitchen. "You've been here all damn day and didn't cook anything, like always."_

_Mom opened the refrigerator and shoved a pan into dad's chest. "Here's dinner. I fixed it hours ago. You were supposed to be here at eight. It's after eleven."_

_"Stop your bitching." Dad opened the lid and after looking at the soup mom had made for them with sandwiches, he turned and threw it against the wall. "Soup! Jesus Christ, can't you cook anymore!"_

_"I would be able to cook more if you give me more money! Instead you blow it at the track like always!"_

_He jerked back and held his knees tighter as he watched his dad become angry and shove his mom again. _

_"It's shit like this that's going to make me leave you! Do you want that? What are you going to do Frances when I walk out of this hell hole and never come back?"_

_"I'll be just fine so why don't you leave. Just go! Frank will take care of me."_

_"Like hell he will; Frank's my boy, I'll take him with me. It'll be just you and that little bastard..." at that, his dad turned and stalked over to the dining room table._

_He froze as his dad yanked the chairs away and grabbed his leg, and then pulled him out from under the table. "No," he screamed as he tried to hang onto the chairs and table legs, but his dad was stronger. He yanked hard on his leg until his fingers slipped. _

_The nasty smell he had come to associate with his dad was strong this time and it was mixed with the smell of beer on his breath as he pulled him close to him before smacking him across the mouth. "What did I tell you 'bout hiding under that table?"_

_He knew well enough not to answer him; it would only make him angrier. _

_"Bill, stop it; you're going to wake up Frank!"_

_His dad tossed him to the floor before telling him, "Get to your room and stay there, and I don't what to have to put up with you for the rest of this week; ya unnerstand?"_

His dad didn't want to have to put up with him. What kind of thing was that for a father to say to his child? Bobby hadn't known then that his father was a cheater or a gambler. He didn't fully understand what he smelt on his dad and why he always seemed to have no money to give them. He also didn't realized that everything his father did was centered around his own self and what his needs and wants were. It wasn't until Declan pointed out all the symptoms that he understood that his father was a Narcissist.

The man was a manipulative, self-centered, abusive user. He used everyone to his own advantage and then when he was done with them, tossed them aside like they weren't worth a thing. He had only been with his mother for the purpose of pretending he had a great marriage and a good wife and then once her illness took over her daily life, he was gone. Left like he always threatened he would. Frank had become his golden boy. The son that he could live vicariously through. He had felt envious of Frank when they were kids because he always had their father's attention, and his dad was always proud of Frank.

It wasn't until he got older that he realized the damaged that had been done to Frank by him being their father's favorite. Frank had become a narcissistic bastard himself, blaming everyone for his faults and failures and never himself. Frank had become just like their father. They were both addicted to gambling and their choice of poisons: Frank with drugs and his father with alcohol. It had been the alcohol that had killed him.

Bobby stared at the glass that was now empty in his hand. Addiction was a common thing in his family, everyone had something that grabbed them and never let go. He had, because of his curious nature and the need to push himself, tested his own addictive limitations. It had been one of the reasons he went into Narcotics. He could have done anything, and he chose to deal with that crazy world because he had to test himself. He had to know that he wasn't like his brother. He had to know that he could resist the evil that had so easily stole his brother away from him.

And he had. There was nothing appealing to him in the world of drug addiction. It had hardened his resolve to have nothing to do with it. He had smoked when he was a teenager, and not just cigarettes, and it had done nothing for him except make him afraid that the paranoia that gripped him would turn him into his mother. Cigarettes and alcohol were the only things that stuck with him through his life, and then he had kicked the habit of smoking. That was until tonight.

He was getting tired of walking. Backing away from the water, he stumbled a few feet before sitting down in the sand. As he took a long drag off the cigarette, he stared out across the bay as he pulled his legs up to his chest and then wrapped his arms around his knees as he shivered against the coldness that he hadn't been aware of before. Resting his head against his legs, he tried to feel himself relax as the effects of the alcohol took hold. His muscles stopped hurting and the parents voices in his head died down a little.

It was enough that he was able to drift into a light sleep.

He woke some time later to the sound of the waves getting harsher and louder against the shore. Bobby blinked back at the night sky and at the hundreds of stars he could see. At sight like that couldn't be seen in the city. When he was a kid, he would sit up on the roof of the building they lived in and stare at the sky but he never saw a single star. He used to wonder if God was up there, watching him.

Then he became a evil demon and his mother believed that she was being controlled by God to punish him. It was after his safe and innocent world was shattered that he stopped wondering if God was watching him. He had grown to hate his mother's God, and then he had lost his faith completely; however, he was still envious of people who had it.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he felt the aching in his knee. The cold was making it hurt and that must mean that the alcohol was wearing off. His left hand was also throbbing with pain. Rubbing at his hand and then his knee, he rolled to his side and pushed himself off the ground before making his way back toward the house.

As he approached the big open yard, he saw that the bonfire was burning and stopped moving. Looking at the house, he saw that the lights were still off except for a dim light in the kitchen. He started moving toward the burning bundle of wood and as he got closer, he saw her sitting in a chair by the fire.

He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. Bobby smiled a little as he approached her. She was wrapped in a quilt and hugging it to her tightly as he leaned down; he took her lips in his as he kissed her deeply. "What're you doin' up?" he asked once he broke the kiss

"You were gone," she simply told him.

"How, uh...long have you been out here?" Bobby looked around for another chair but couldn't see one.

"Not very long," Alex said as she stood and patted her chair for him to sit down in it.

Bobby sat down in it and pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. Closing his eyes at the heat that quickly warmed him, he wrapped his arms around her body, holding the quilt tightly to her. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed heavily before resting his head on hers. "Is it enough?" he asked after they had spent a couple of long minutes just holding each other.

"Is what enough?"

Bobby stared into the dying flames of the fire as he asked, "Is this...uh, me trying; is it enough for...for you to stay with me?"

Alex shifted against him as she looked into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Bobby. Look, whatever happened between you and my dad..."

Bobby shook his head and silenced her with a kiss. "Nothing happened between us, okay. I-I, uh...I think we're fine. Really."

"Then what...?"

Bobby closed his eyes as he rubbed at his head. He didn't want to discuss it all right then. It was late and he was getting too tired to think clearly. He just wanted to make sure that at the moment they were okay, not get into something that might turn into an argument or for him having to struggle with his memories while trying to struggle with what to tell her. "It's...I was just tired and had...I had a lot of things on my mind. It was a long day, and, just..." he breathed out and rubbed at his tired eyes. "I'm exhausted and I need to leave in the morning. Can we talk about this later?"

Alex was looking at him like she didn't want to drop it, and was upset that he did, but she didn't push him. Instead, she nodded a little and gave him a kiss before resting her head back on his shoulder.

Bobby stretched his legs out and relaxed as he squeezed her tighter before he felt himself drift off again.

* * *

He heard something just before he felt the heat of the sun on his face and the burn of the light against his eyes. Bobby shifted and groaned at that tension in his back and the weight against his chest. Blinking his eyes open, he was staring at ashes of the fire that had completely burned all the wood that had been piled up the night before.

They were still outside. That meant he had fallen asleep in the chair and that was why his back was killing him. Alex was still resting against his chest, but the quilt was covering both of them. She must have done that after he had drifted off. Stretching his legs, he moaned at the aches and pains that rippled up his body. He was getting too old for this kind of stuff.

As he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, he heard the noise again. Opening his eyes, he looked toward the house and saw the source of the noise. John was standing on the back patio, drinking what appeared to be a hot cup of coffee, and he was watching them.

Bobby caught his eyes and they both looked at each other for a long moment before he finally looked away. He stared down at Alex as he debated on waking her or trying to maneuver out from under her...There was no way he wasn't going to wake her up. Tilting his head down, he kissed over her face to her lips.

She moaned and moved against him as she was roused from her sleep. Alex groaned a little as she tried to stretch out only to realize that she couldn't. Opening her eyes, she frowned as she looked around the yard then up at him. "Hum," she moaned as she blinked her tired eyes and rubbed at them. "I thought you carried me inside."

"You were dreaming, baby," Bobby muttered as he smiled down at her. "I can't move."

Alex stared up at him and then said, "Oh," before sliding off his lap.

Bobby groaned at the loss of her warmth, but he was glad he was finally about to shift his weight and stand. Pain flared in his knee once he put weight on it. Rubbing at it, he felt some on the tension leave before he follow Alex to the house.

She greeted her father on the patio, giving him a hug and kiss before disappearing into the house.

Bobby was slower than she was as he tried not to show how much pain he was in as he took one step at a time up to the patio. "Mornin', John," he greeted him once he was next to him.

John suddenly grabbed his arm and steadied him as he felt the floor come out from under him. "Whoa, you okay, Bobby?"

His knee had given up on him and the pain that stabbed at his leg shook his whole body. Bobby nodded a little as John helped him to a chair. He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming as it felt like his knee had been disconnected from the rest of his leg. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and said as calmly as he could, "I'm fine."

John stared at him before saying in a tone that he had heard many times from Alex when she knew he was being stubborn, "Like hell you are. Hang on, I'll get you some aspirin."

Bobby was in too much pain to protest, and if he did then he really would be a stubborn idiot. He was in pain and he needed something for it. Hearing the screen door open, he watched as Alex came toward him with two cups of coffee.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she handed him a cup.

Bobby took a sip of the coffee and sighed in pleasure. He needed that. "Uh, it's my knee."

Alex eased down in a chair across from him as she sipped at the coffee. "It's hurting you again?" When he nodded, she continued, "Maybe you should call Dr. Jeffries and have him check it out."

"It's okay. Normal...uh, reaction to the cold."

She scolded at him, making him chuckle. Alex rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath about men. "It could be something serious. I remember it hurting you after you had to run up those stairs a few months ago after our suspect."

"That's because I had to run up six flights and then he kicked me and made me stumble back down one of them." Bobby heard the door open and again.

John handed him the bottle of aspirin with a glass of water.

"Thanks," Bobby said as he took them. Once he swallowed the pills and downed the water, he looked back at Alex and told her, "I'll call him tomorrow."

Alex smiled in triumph causing him to chuckle as he took another sip of the coffee.

After he had finished the cup of coffee and felt better, he headed upstairs to take a shower. Alex helped him up the stairs because she was still worried for him even though he told her he was no longer in pain and could walk. Once in the bedroom, he grabbed his NYPD duffel bag that he used for work and was surprised to see Alex grabbed her clothes as well.

When she caught his eyes, she blushed and asked, "What? We can save time and water by showering together."

Bobby couldn't argue with that as he turned toward the door. "Missed me that much last night?"

Alex shoved him out the door a little too hard. "I'm trying to be considerate; there are sixteen people in this house."

Bobby glanced back at her over his shoulder, smirking.

"And, yes, I did."

Once the bathroom door was closed, he pushed her against it and kissed her; feeling the way she shook against him stirred his desire. Breaking the kiss, he pulled his shirt off and slipped out of his pants before helping her take her clothes off.

* * *

Bobby had gotten dressed first as Alex took their bags back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. She had girl things she had to do like put makeup on and....He didn't know what else but he left her to it as he headed down to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee and food was making him hungry.

The kitchen was once again bursting with activity as he stepped through the entryway. All the men were in the living room or outside as all the women were preparing breakfast. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Alex's mom smiled over at him.

"Are you feeling better, Bobby? John told me about your knee."

Bobby smiled warmly at the older woman as he nodded a little. Since Emily had a stroke years ago, she was partly paralyzed on the left side of her body, so Angie and Melissa were helping with a lot of the cooking while Liz and Stephanie did the dishes that were piling up in the sink. He was glad to see that the mother had a lot of help from her daughters, and the rest of her family.

"Coffee is done, and I think...Yes, there are bagels on the counter and cream cheese if you want something before the food is done."

Bobby prepared a cup of coffee with sugar and then placed a bagel with some strawberry cream cheese on the plate before turning and heading back upstairs. He got the bedroom door open barely and used his body to push it open.

Alex smiled at him as he came into the room and placed the cup on the vanity along with the plate. "Well, aren't you the greatest man ever. Thank you."

Bobby gave her a quick kiss before heading back out. Going back into the kitchen, he caught the looks from the women as he took another cup down and filled it with coffee before grabbing the half- &-half creamer. He looked around at them and shrugged, "Alex would've sentenced me to a week on the couch if I hadn't gotten her something first."

All of them laughed at that, making him feel a little better around them. He prepared himself half a bagel, and not wanting to be any more intrusive in the kitchen than he already had been, he went outside. Bobby found an empty chair off to the side, near the back of the patio, and sat down.

So far, he had noticed that both Mike and Terry, Angie and Liz's husbands, were the quiet types, especially Terry who was so mellow and easy going that it was hard to draw anything more than a laugh out of the guy. Mike was more open, liking to tell war stories and joke about the mischief his twin girls liked to get into, but he wasn't one to pry or ask a lot of questions. Him and Terry got along great since they were both the in-laws of the family so they could also sympathize with him being the outsider.

Stephanie, Junior's wife, was also quiet and liked to talk about her job as a Visual Arts Professor at NYU. She was a nice woman, but she was also authoritative and she was on Junior's back about everything. He was surprised that Junior had married such a woman since he was also authoritative and not to mention cocky, arrogant, immature, and a cop.

Liz and Junior were like twins themselves, only they weren't. They seemed to have the same mindset when it came to him and they were also closer to each other and to Alex than they were to their older siblings, Rich and Angie. The age differences for all the Eames kids made him shake his head and wonder just what John and Emily were thinking. There was a nineteen-year difference between the oldest and youngest sons. Rich and Angie were only two years apart; it occurred to him that Angie was only four years older than he was, Rich was six.

The same went for Alex and Liz, they were only one and a half years apart in age; Alex being thirty-seven and Liz thirty-eight, she would be thirty-nine in two months having been born the day after Christmas. And then there was John Jr.; he was seven years younger than Alex. John Sr. had been forty when he fathered Junior, and Emily would have been thirty-seven...Alex had been thirty-six when she had given birth to Nathan; she didn't turn thirty-seven until June.

Bobby couldn't imagine his mother coming to him when he was nineteen years old and telling him he that he was going to be older brother. If he hadn't already known she was crazy, that would have solidified it for him.

He had just finished his bagel and was drinking the last of the coffee when Angie called from the kitchen that breakfast was ready.

"And everyone is eating at the table, so get in here."

Bobby heard some of the men groan but they all filed inside and sat down in the dining room that was off the side of the kitchen. He had yet to go into that room since being there. It was through a swinging door and it was a larger room with a huge bay window that looked out to the street. The dining table could sit ten easily so adding two more chairs for the adults wasn't too much trouble. They had added a smaller, round table in the room for the children to sit at and eat.

John took the chair at the head of the table while he figured Emily would sit at the other end. Wasn't that how it worked? He wasn't sure but it seemed to be the consensus of the group as no one sat in that chair. Bobby made sure he sat at the end of the table since he was left handed so not to bump his arm into anyone.

The table was already set with the breakfast food and there was a table behind him against the wall that held the coffeepot and the sugar and creamer, a pitcher of orange juice, and the tray with the bagels that were still left.

Bobby got up and fixed himself a tall glass of the juice as Alex walked through the door and smiled at him. "Want a glass?"

"Thanks," she said as she took his and sat down in his chair.

Bobby frowned and rolled his eyes before pouring himself another glass and then leaned down to her ear. "You're in my seat."

Alex pointed to the one across from her. "You can sit there."

"I'm not going to be bumping my arm into your sister the whole time I'm eating. You can sit there."

Alex sighed and got up, but she gave him a 'sorry' smile as she sat down across from him.

Once everyone was settled, Bobby looked around as no one moved to fill their plates with the food that was sitting on the table. He glanced at Alex as he waited to see what was going on. She just smiled at him as she looked to her father.

John asked everyone to hold hands before he bowed his head.

Bobby didn't know what to do but take a hold of both Emily and Richards' hands as they offered them to him. Looking back at Alex, she raised her eyebrows at him teasingly and bit her lips to keep from laughing at the shock on his face.

This was something he hadn't experienced since leaving the Catholic Church when he was twelve. Bowing his head down, he listened and waited until John finished his prayer before taking a long drink of the orange juice and wishing it had Vodka mixed in with it. It was too early to be thinking about drinking, but he couldn't help the sudden urge or thought.

"Are you a religious man, Bobby?"

At that, he froze with the glass against his lips. Bobby looked at John as he slowly lowered it to the table. Taking a hesitant glance at Alex, he saw her frown with concern. The tone in John's voice had changed since yesterday. His voice was no longer strict or held the hostile tension that had clouded it before. John sounded genuinely curious and open to whatever answer he gave him. It eased his nerves, but only by a fraction. "I...I was raised Catholic."

John studied him as he took that in. "Usually when someone says that, it means that they no longer practice."

Bobby nodded as he kept his eyes on him. Unlike yesterday, he wasn't feeling intimidated just by looking at the man.

"He calls himself a lapsed altar boy," Alex told them as she piled scrambled eggs onto her plate.

Bobby smiled a little as he looked at her.

"So, I guess that means you won't be joining us for mass today?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Bobby told him as he took the offered eggs from Emily and put some on his plate before handing it off to Richard. "I've been, visiting my mother, uh, every Sunday for...seventeen years, except for when...you know, I couldn't," he referred to the months when he had been abducted.

"You're really dedicated to her, aren't you?" Emily asked as she offered him a piece of toast.

Bobby took it and smiled proudly. "I try to be a good son," he told her modestly even though he should have felt proud along with his smile.

He was glad that after that, the family launched into different conversations with each other. Being the center of attention was never one of his strong suits. It always made him feel embarrassed and that he would be scolded for having the attention. It was another long-lasting effect of the abuse his parents inflicted on him. He never felt like he deserved the attention because he had never had his parents' attention unless he did something they thought was wrong and then he was punished for it.

Even after years of being in accommodated not only in the Army but NYPD, he still felt that at some point someone was going to decide that he wasn't worth not only the praises of the department but also the time and effort and fire him. So far, it hadn't happened, but he feared the day when someone new would come around. After living in an uncertain and always changing world growing up, he had a hard time adjusting to change now as an adult, especially when he felt so safe and comfortable right where he was. He never wanted to see that destroyed.

Bobby had realized that he had become lost inside his head again as Alex kicked him under the table to get his attention. He frowned at her before looking around at the people looking at him. He had clearly missed something, but he had no idea what it was. His intuition was telling him that a serious question was asked, and after quickly studying everyone, he knew that it had to have been John who asked it.

"We were talking about Heather's eighteenth birthday party next week; I asked you if you were going to come."

He looked over at Heather who was talking with one of the twins. She glanced over at him and smiled before going back to talking to the five-year-old. Bobby slowly nodded as he looked back to John. "I-I'd love to."

Alex's face lit up in a smile as she heard him say that. Bobby winked at her as he went back to eating while the family went back to talking.

* * *

His time with the Eames family came to a close as he accepted a hug from Emily before walking with Alex out to his car. She held onto his arm a little tighter than usual as she walked beside him. Bobby smiled down at her once they were standing next to his Mustang and moved a loose strand of hair out of her face before leaning down and giving her a soft kiss on her lips.

Alex had her eyes close and slowly opened them once he ended the kiss. "Today was better than yesterday."

Bobby chuckled as he pulled her into a hug. "That's because they all knew I was leaving." She shoved him a little and he laughed harder. "I was joking. I think, once your dad settled down and... was civil to me, everyone else, calmed down too."

"He has that effect on people," she agreed as she ran her hands over his chest before pulling him down for another hug and kiss. "Call me when you get there."

Bobby pulled out his car keys as he nodded. "I will. Uh, Benson left me another message on my phone this morning. She thinks it's a good idea to meet tonight and for one of us to call to discuss when and where."

"I'll do that and call you as soon as we figure it out. Any time after seven, right?"

"Right..." he trailed off as he thought about apologizing for the last time that they had this discussion but, from the look in her eyes, he knew that she was thinking the same thing and she had already forgiven him for his behavior. "So, uh, I'll see you later."

"Drive safe," she ordered him as he slid into the driver's seat and fastened his seat belt.

Bobby grinned up at her as he heard the engine come to life. "Always."

Alex shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Just, stay below a hundred on the interstate."

"Okay," was what he told her before he pulled out and drove away.

* * *

_Carmel Ridge Psychiatric Center_

_Carmel, Westchester County_

Bobby was dreading seeing his mother today. She hadn't been responding to her medication as her delusions were starting to run wild and her agitation was increasing. It had been two years since they had this problem and he had hoped that the new medication she was on would last. It had reduced her restlessness and had stopped the delusions and hallucinations even though her apathy and thought disorder still remained.

He could deal with her lack of empathy and her changing speech patterns. What he didn't like was her break from reality and the confusion, fear, anger, and sense of emptiness it brought along with it. And then there was always the threat of her having to be restrained and pumped full of drugs that he was never comfortable with.

Thinking of his mother being treated that way, even when it was for her own safety and the safety of other people, infuriated him. It was torturous and having been subjected to that kind of torture himself, he was even more afraid of it happening to the woman he valued and cared for more than anyone in his life. The thought of Alex even being second when it came to his mother both saddened him yet secured him; it was one of the complex and unfamiliar emotions that he had that he couldn't comprehend nor explain.

The door to her room was slightly ajar and that made him straighten as he pushed open the door. His mother was pacing the floor with the Bible in one hand and a slipper in the other. Looking down at her feet, he saw that she was wearing the other slipper on her right foot when it was for the left.

Bobby stayed by the door as he watched the frail old woman come to a stop at the sight of him. He waited to move when she moved; mimicing her movements, and keeping his eyes locked with hers until she narrowed them at him, he would glance at the floor before moving closer and relocking his eyes with hers. Leaning inward with only the top part of his body, he asked, "Mom, why are you holding your slipper?"

Frances looked at him like he had asked why the sky was blue before she looked at her hand. "I had to defend myself," was her answer.

Bobby nodded as he took the slipper from her hand. "Sit down; let me help you put these on. Do you want your feet to get cold?"

She didn't move for a moment while she looked him over before she moved to her bed and sat on the edge of it.

He took the left-footed slipper off her right foot and put it on the left before putting the right one on her other foot. Bobby eyed the book in her hand as he made his way to the couch and sat down.

It didn't take long before Frances got up and held the Bible up for him to see it. Pointing to it she told him in a franticly rushed voice, "Bobby, God, he's uh, talking to me through here the-the words, see," she opened the book and showed him something that he could not see. "They light up, the words he wants me to hear and-and-and they seep into my blood and go into my head so I can hear him, and the angels telling me, Bobby, they're telling me what it means and what-what-what I, uh, I have to do. Do you see? The light Bobby, do you see the light? Look," she pointed at the scripture that she was looking at with wild astonished eyes. "Ah, can you believe it. God, Bobby, isn't it wonderful?"

Bobby looked from the book to his mother and then back again. He was going to have to destroy her world again. "Mom, there's nothing lighting up in the book. You're seeing things. The meds, mom, they aren't working and your forgetting that...that it's not real."

Frances stared hard at him before slamming the book close. "You," she pointed at him. "You ungrateful, faithless, evil boy."

Bobby swallowed hard and wanted to close his eyes at her insults but couldn't. If she decided to throw that book at him, he wouldn't be able to react in time. "Mom, you've got to listen to me."

"No," she yelled. "You're always doing this to me. Telling me that-that God isn't communicating with me and-and-and that, uh, that I'm not hearing the truth of his words, that it's not real when, when you don't even believe. So, how can you know that you're right? You're not right. You're wrong. He's here, inside my blood with the words and he's in here, talking to me and telling me...telling me not to trust you. That-that those people," she spat as she pointed out into the hallway, "they're trying to put the devil's words inside so I, I'll let them give me drugs that-that make me follow sin. Don't you see, Bobby? Don't you see what they're trying to do to your mother?"

Bobby rubbed at his head as he felt the sorrowful tears burn his eyes. This had really gotten bad and it was hard to listen to her voice tremble with pure and real fear for a delusion that was crippling her sense of self and reality. When he was a child, he actually believed her. Why wouldn't he? He thought his mother was normal and that she would never lie to him, especially about something as serious as God.

Now, it tore at his heart and soul to hear her like this because it made him painfully aware how close he was to losing her completely. He tried to reason with her and that usually worked. She usually remembered about her illness and she fought to maintain her composer and anger until she was given her medication. In the past couple of years her fight had diminished and she would forget more and more than she what she was thinking and hearing or seeing wasn't the truth.

Bobby went out into the hallway and called for a nurse. It was taking too long this time for them to find the right dose or medication to subdue her delusions that she was too far gone for him to reason with. Knowing that they had no choice except to drug her and possibly restrain her, he left the nurses to do what they had to do as he could do nothing except watch in pained guilt and sorrow as she was injected with a tranquilizer and placed in her bed. In a matter of seconds, she was asleep and no longer suffering in her world of fear and paranoia.

As he sat down on the couch, he pulled out his phone and dialed Alex's number. "Hey," Bobby softly spoke into the phone.

"What's wrong?"

Bobby knew he couldn't hide his emotions from her; she always knew when something was wrong with him. "Um, have you talked to Benson yet?"

"No."

"Okay, uh...Let's, uh, let's change our meeting to tomorrow if-if, uh, if that's okay?"

Alex was quiet for a moment before asking, "Are you staying longer?"

Bobby nodded into the phone even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah, uh...I want to stay and talk to her doctor and then, uh...I wanna be here if they decide to wake her up later."

"Wake her up?" Alex asked in a panic. "What happened?"

"Just," Bobby sighed and rubbed at his aching head. "It's...Her medication isn't working again and, and she was beyond our reach today; that's all."

Alex was once again quiet. "Okay," she finally told him. "I'll call Benson and tell her."

Bobby leaned back against the couch as he stared up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. "Thanks. I'll call you when I leave here, kay?"

"Okay. Love you."

Bobby smiled into the phone as he said, "Yeah, me too," before flipping it close.

TBC...


	10. Monday, October 11, 2004

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews. Sorry for the delay, but it's been a crazy week.

* * *

_1:51 AM_

_Marine Parkway Bridge_

The visit with his mother had been disastrous.

For a couple of years he had the chance to relax around her and actually enjoy his time with her. She used to be lively, talking and laughing with him over the good memories they shared. Then a few months ago it all started to slip away. She would become livid over the smallest mundane things, like him being a couple minutes late or missing a phone call. He had known then that her medication was starting to become useless. That the impending psychological break was going to happen if the doctors couldn't find a dose or new drug that worked for her.

Bobby couldn't understand how some people with schizophrenia could get better, take the same medication for their whole lives, and never have another psychotic episode. Then there were people like his mother who never got better. The feeling of being cheated out of having a normal life and a normal relationship with his mother used to infuriate him. It took him a long time to get over that feeling. Then he had to deal with the guilt of leaving his mother to pursue his own life. His mother was very good at making him feel guilty about choosing his life over her.

After twenty-five years he was still convincing himself that it was okay to leave. That it was okay for him to have a life beyond his responsibilities to her. During the time when she was stable and doing well, it was easier. He saw her happiness and he heard her joyous voice as she talked about her day and all the things she had done. Experiencing that would be enough for him to not feel like he was abandoning her every time he had to go home or to work.

It were times like these that made him feel like he was eighteen again and leaving his mother for the first time. The guilt would creep up and make his throat tight as he drove away with the echo of her frantic, scared voice radiating throughout his head. Living a life outside of her shouldn't have made him feel guilty. It was supposed to be a release, a happy and enjoyable freedom.

Right then, heading across the bridge toward Alex's house, that was the last thing he felt. He hadn't wanted to leave his mother's bedside until she woke up. She didn't; she slept through the entire day and into the night. The doctor's told him that for a week she had been so restless and agitated that she barely slept. So, even though the tranquilizer had been a very mild one, they weren't surprised when after the effects of the drug wore off that she stayed asleep.

He had taken the time that he was left alone in his mother's room to think about the case and the time he had spent with Alex's family. Her family caused him a great deal of stress but he was glad that he finally got to meet the people that Alex had in her life growing up. She had a lot of people who loved her. Even though they could be brutal, it was always with the intention of protecting her. He couldn't say the same for his family. In his home, he needed protection from them. Once he realized that no one was going to protect him, he did it himself.

Forty years of protecting his self had been shattered the day Alex told him that she loved him. Hearing that had flipped his whole world upside down. It made him curse his emotional barriers and insecurities because he knew that she deserved better than what he could give her. She said she was happy with just him trying, but how long was that going to last? A person could only hope for so long before they got tired of receiving little to no results.

That weekend had been a huge step for him, throwing himself into the lion's den that was her family for the sake of proving that he cared enough for her to do it. She had appreciated his effort this time and that was all he could ask and hope for.

He had tried calling Alex a few hours ago when he was on his way from Carmel Ridge but it had gone straight to voicemail. Unlike him, she could get to bed at a decent hour. Driving through the streets of Rockaway, and toward her apartment that was on the far eastside of the island; he couldn't help the growing feeling that something was wrong.

It all felt wrong and he had no idea why his intuition was making him get a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned onto her street. Her car was there and the lights were out in her apartment. Everything appeared to be normal yet nothing felt normal or right. The street seemed wrong, the air was too thick, and the feel of the house as soon as he opened the door was nearly sickening.

Bobby didn't close the front door all the way as he flipped on the light for the living room. The jacket wore that weekend was hanging on the hook and there was nothing out of place in the living room. The same went for the dining room and kitchen. Nothing had been taken out of place or moved. If Alex had been home, even for a few hours before going to bed, something would have been disturbed. She would have made tea or heated up something to eat or read a book by the fireplace moved the pillows on the couch.

Approaching her bedroom, he unconsciously moved his hand to his belt but realized that he didn't have a gun on him. It was at his apartment that he had bypassed on his way to her house. Pushing the door open, he immediately knew that she wasn't there. The bed was perfectly made and she was nowhere in the room. The only sound in the house was Polly who was chirping frantically in its cage.

He was out of the apartment and pulling out his cell phone with a shaky hand before he had time to register that he even left the bedroom. As soon as he heard a sleepy and irritated Captain Deakins on the phone, he couldn't speak. His throat locked and it was all he could do to close his eyes and press his hand firmly into his bruised right eye to get him to concentrate.

"Goren! Is everything all right?"

Bobby shook his head into the phone even though the Captain couldn't see him.

"Where are you?"

_In Hell._ He took a deep haggard breath before softly saying, "Eames..."

"What about Eames? Bobby--"

"She-she's gone...She's...aw, fuck." Bobby sat down heavily on the steps and buried his head in his hands.

It had been five days since they had found Stella Cole's body by the Harlem River. Five days was the waiting period between the time a victim was found and another was taken. He should have been there instead of wasting hours upstate.

Deakins was still on the phone but he couldn't hear his voice or what he was telling him. Bobby suddenly hung up on his captain and stood. Flipping his phone open again as he paced on the sidewalk, he called Detective Benson and told her about Alex and gave her the address.

Staring up at the front door that he left open, he barely moved until he heard the sirens and saw the flashing red, white, and blue lights from the cop cars. Holding up his shield, he approached the officers.

"Detective Goren, Major Case. This is my partner's house, Detective Alex Eames and she's missing. I've already cleared the house."

An officer hoisted his gun as he stepped up to him. "Who are we waiting on?"

Bobby pocketed his shield as he told him, "My Captain and SVU detectives have already been called. We're waiting on them."

If the officers wanted to question him on why the Special Victim's Unit was called, they didn't voice it and Bobby was glad.

It was a long wait, or at least it seemed like a long time, before he spotted Deakins car rounding the corner. Bobby walked up to it as it slowed to a stop behind his car and he watched as his captain got out.

"What the hell is going on?"

Bobby rubbed at the back of his neck as he walked beside Deakins to the house. "I-I got here nearly an hour ago, and... She's gone, Captain. Her car is here, her keys are on the table by the door, her purse on the floor, but...she's not here."

Deakins walked up the steps and stopped at the door. "I heard SVU was called. Did you see evidence of assault?"

Bobby stayed at the bottom of the steps as he looked up at Deakins. "No, but...I'm sure it's him."

Deakins didn't need to hear him voice who 'him' was as he stared back down at him. "CSU is on the way."

Bobby nearly paled as he shifted his eyes to the ground. "Captain, we need to have a talk." He suddenly turned and walked off down the sidewalk, knowing Deakins would follow him back to his car. Once he stopped at his car and turned, Deakins was barely a few feet from him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What's going on, Bobby? Why were you coming over to your partner's house at two in the morning?"

He knew when he called it in that this would be brought up and questioned. Why would he be going to his partner's house so late at night? Bobby shifted in his stance and kept his eyes on Alex's door as he peered over Deakins shoulder. "CSU is going to find evidence of...of Eames being in a serious relationship with a man. And this man is going to be identified and questioned as a suspect in her disappearance. So, as of right now, I'm going to have to turn in my shield."

Deakins didn't move for a long moment as he continued to stare hard at him. Finally, after he sighed heavily and moved his hands to his hips, said, "Are you telling me that my best detectives, who are the best team in the entire Major Case Squad, are...in a relationship?"

Bobby stared at the sidewalk as he nodded. Pulling out his shield, he handed it to Deakins. "I, uh, I already know how this is going to go, Captain. The FBI already sees me as a suspect. Now, with Eames missing, and with evidence that I've...that we're in a relationship, I'm going to be hung out to dry on this as the FBI investigates my involvement, and the Chief.... He's going to prevent as much political backfire and damage control as possible by having me suspended, probably for the duration of the investigation. There's nothing good that's going to come out of this, not until Eames is found. That's why I call in SVU. They need to stay ahead of the FBI to figure out who this sick son-of-a-bitch is and getting Eames back because the FBI is only going to be focused on me that they aren't going to even attempt to look at other suspects."

Deakins eyed his badge in his hand then looked up at him. "Is there anything that will implicate you in her disappearance or in the murders of the previous victims?"

Bobby shook his head. "I was at Carmel Ridge all day. I called Eames when I left there nearly three hours ago from my cell phone. I drove all the way here from there, stopping at a gas station in Brooklyn; I paid with my debit card, before I got onto the bridge."

"I'm guessing you used cash for the toll."

Bobby nodded. "But, with the time frame and the fact that I do have an alibi for my whereabouts all day and then having the receipt for the gas...I should be okay. There's no way I could have gotten here, took Eames, and then came back."

Deakins nodded in agreement. "Okay, so you'll be cleared; however, you're right, the ramifications of your relationship with Eames, you'll still be suspended. I don't think the Chief will do anything else until after Eames is found. "

"I...I'll throw myself under the bus before I have him fire Eames, Captain. If it comes to that, I'll rather lose my job than see her lose hers."

Deakins didn't like hearing that and he wasn't about to accept that as a possibility. "Look, I'll talk to the Chief, and go to bat for you guys. If anything, hopefully the worst that will happen is being separated and maybe a demotion for Eames. I won't accept anything more without following you under that bus." He looked back over his shoulder at the officers waiting for the arrival of the detectives before asking him, "How long?"

Bobby smiled a little despite the growing fear in his gut and head as he told him, "Since...since I, uh, was found."

"A year and a half, and no one had a clue...I'm impressed."

So was he, but for many different reasons. Bobby nodded a little as he spotted a SUV coming around the opposite corner. "The SVU detectives are here."

Deakins watched with him as the SUV parked and Benson and Stabler got out. "Okay, I'll talk to them. When I leave, follow me back to Major Case. I'll have them and the FBI question you there and then..." he looked back at him. "I know you were thinking about working the case off-hours. So...with being your Captain, what you do on personal time is your business and not mine."

Bobby stared at his captain as he processed that. "Are, are you giving me permission to...to conduct my own investigation?"

Deakins shook his head. "No, I'm not saying anything to you right now about anything. And, if asked, I'll deny it. Plausible deniability, remember?"

Bobby could have given Deakins a hug if it wouldn't have freaked them both out. Instead, he smiled a little and nodded. "Thanks," he told him before watching as Deakins headed over to greet the SVU detectives.

* * *

_Major Case Squad_

The crime scene, the gym, the house...the guy had to have been stalking her. Watching where she went and which who. He saw her working out, saw her go shopping, to the dry-cleaners, to his apartment...Did he see him at her place that night? Was he a witness to their most intimate moments? Was he out on Long Island, watching from a distance during the day and the darkness at night?

Bobby rubbed at his head and closed his eyes against the relentless pounding of a headache. They only had five days to find her and the man who had her was playing games. Leaving evidence that pointed to one of their own. What if it was a diversion? It might not be a cop. At this point anything was possible. That meant that they had nothing and it was the worst place to be.

A cup of coffee appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Stabler hovering over him. Bobby stared at the cup and muttered, "Thanks."

Stabler sat across from him at the table in the conference room. "You look ready to drop."

Bobby took a sip of the coffee but the taste was all wrong. "This tastes like shit."

Stabler chuckled and glanced out the glass window into the squad room. "The Feds made it a few hours ago. It's old, bitter, and Maxwell House. What'd you expect?"

Bobby had bad tasting coffee before, but usually Eames made it better by adding the right amount of sugar and flavored creamer to make it tolerable for him to drink it. He looked up at the detective as he leaned back in the chair and pushed the coffee away. The SVU detective was watching him and he didn't hide the fact that he was studying him. "Do, do you think I'm responsible?"

Stabler seemed taken back by that as he sipped at the coffee. Bobby was surprised at how easily it was to read the tough detective. Stabler had no problem showing what he was thinking or feeling, especially when he was angry. Right then, he was apprehensive and conflicted.

Bobby watched at the emotions flickered in the other man's eyes even though his body language stayed the same; arms crossed over his chest, sitting back in the chair, and his eyes were permanently narrowed into his as his face grew stern and tight.

Finally, he sat forward on the table and placed his cup down to the side so he could appear non-confrontational and open. Bobby knew the deal, and Stabler was playing out every single one of them. "Listen, Goren...I know about you and Eames. Deakins let us know right from the word 'go' what the deal was. I know how tough this is--"

Bobby pushed hard away from the table, making the chair tip over and bang on the floor. "Stop yanking my chain, Stabler," he told him as he leaned over the table, nearly filling the entire space that had separated them. "I asked you if you think I'm responsible. It's a yes or no question and I expect an yes or no answer."

Stabler worked his jaw as the anger was starting to win out over his patients. Bobby knew he was going to get somewhere with the detective if he pushed him, and he was right. "No, I don't, but you think you are."

"Yeah, I do, because it was. I shouldn't have stayed gone so long. I shouldn't have cancelled our meeting. We _knew _it was a possibility that she was the next target. Why...why didn't I..." Bobby was getting too tired to talk, yet alone think. He stumbled back and picked up the chair and sat it a little harder on the floor before slumping down into it.

"You can't play this game, Goren. 'Should've-would've-could've' isn't going to bring Eames back. Neither is this guilt."

"Then tell me I was wrong."

"I"m not gonna do that!" Stabler nearly barked at him. "Look, if you need the guilt to kick your ass into high gear to find her, then okay, go 'head and blame yourself all you want."

Bobby stared hard at Stabler and shook his head. What was he doing? He had no idea anymore. It was four in the morning and he hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. Not real good sleep anyway. A couple of hours in a chair with Alex on his lap wasn't even comparable to a good nights rest. "'m sorry," he apologized even though he didn't mean it. "I...I, uh, haven't had any sleep in over a day." He stared at the abandoned cup of horrible coffee before picking it up and downing it. Maybe a few more of those and he would be okay.

Stabler was actually looking sympathetic and for some reason that pissed him off. "Hey, don't worry 'bout it." He looked out the window again and then back at him. "You two happy? In love?"

Bobby had no energy left to try and put up a good fight against not telling Stabler a damn thing. "You asking if we were serious?"

Stabler gave a soft nod.

Bobby looked out the window at their desks. At the sight of hers being empty and he had no idea if she would ever occupy it again, his throat locked around his answer. He could only nod before rubbing at his head and eyes.

How was he going to get through this without completely losing his mind? He could already feel his control slipping as his whole body began to lightly quiver. At sharp burn struck his eyes and he couldn't stop feeling like his whole world just came down as a sense of overwhelming grief consumed him.

Burying his face in his hands, he tried to push back the emotions that were brutally attacking his control. He couldn't break down, not here and not with Stabler sitting across from him. After a couple more hours he could go home and self-destruct there. He had to just hang on until then. Taking a couple of deep, sharp breaths, he was able to calm his self down a little.

He suddenly stood and started moving. Moving would help take his mind off the pain that nearly crippling him. Bobby looked at Stabler and ignored the concern on the man's face as he told him, "I-I, um, I'm not gonna drop this," he blatantly told Stabler. "My captain, he-he, uh, he basically gave me permission to continue working this even on my suspension. If...if you don't want to help me, then I'll understand, but...I'd, uh...I would...appreciate it. The help, I mean."

Stabler was quiet as he continued to watch him pacing the floor. When Bobby stopped and leaned over the table toward him, he nodded. "I think that'd be best. The Feds are going to try and pin this on you. They're already trying to get anything on you that they can."

Bobby looked out into the squad room where some agents had gathered after talking with Deakins. "Let 'em look. There's nothing on me, not even a damn parking ticket."

Stabler chuckled a little as he said, "I'm not surprised. Were you a boy-scout?"

Bobby frowned at Stabler as he shook his head. "You really don't know me if you think I've even come close to being a boy scout. My girlfriend's my senior partner, what does that tell you?"

"Besides the fact that I owe Liv twenty bucks?"

Bobby had to smile at that, but only a little. Straightening, he stared out at the FBI agents as they started toward the conference room. "It's time to face the Calvary."

Stabler got up as he told him, "I hope you're wearing body armor."

"Left it at home with my gun," he bitterly told Stabler.

The SVU detective smiled slightly as he opened the door and went to leave. "Good luck, and I'll get a hold of you about that, uh..." he trailed off as an agent stopped in front of him. "That thing."

Bobby nodded as he slightly waved 'bye' as the he watched as four agents gathered into the room. How many FBI Agents did it take to conduct an interview? Pulling out the chair, he sat down and waited for what he already knew was coming, He could already feel the flames surrounding him as one of the agents sat across from him and smiled.

Let the inquisition begin.

"Detective Goren," the agent asked. "You're sleeping with your partner, is that correct?"

This guy didn't beat around the bush. Bobby eyed him before asking, "What's your name?"

"Agent Parsons," he answered.

Bobby nodded a little. "Parsons." He heard the agent correct him, telling him to address him with the title of 'Agent', but he ignored it and continued, "You can skip the bullshit." His patients had completely dissolved and all he wanted to do was go home. "I know what's going on. I'm now your main suspect. You're going to be investigating and watching me while the real killer is out there doing God knows what to the woman that is not only my partner at work by my partner in my private life as well."

"You're denying having anything to do with her kidnapping?"

"I wasn't there, that's the only thing I did wrong that caused her to be taken. And I'm going to carry that guilt around with me for the rest of my life. There is nothing you can do to get me to admit otherwise because there is nothing else for me to admit too. Pull my phone records, look at my e-mails, search my house, car, my friend's house, their cars, my desk...do whatever you want. I'm telling you right here and now you're not going to find a damn thing to link me to any of these murders or to Eames kidnapping. I have an alibi for this evening and all the other evenings."

"You have a partner," Parsons told him matter-of-factly.

Bobby stared at the agent for a moment before he actually started to laugh. "All-all you have going for you is a-a, ah, a lack-luster theory that I have a partner?" He glanced around at the agents and shook his head. "You have non-existent evidence with air-tight alibis...and you're going with a theory with no substance to back it up. The only reason you're traveling down this road is because you have an hard-on for me."

Parsons grew red as he stood suddenly and leaned over the table at him. "I'll watch it if I were you, Detective."

Bobby grinned up at the guy as he stood. "I know my rights, and since I'm not under arrest, 'm leaving. If you have anymore questions, you can ask me while you're tearing my house apart."

He left the conference room and stalked off to Deakins office. His captain was getting ready to leave and had just turned the light off in the office as he approached. "Well?"

Deakins closed but didn't lock the door. He never bothered to. "Don't you ever hate being right? I called the Chief and explained everything. You will be suspended until you are cleared, or until the case is solved."

"That could be months. Will I still be paid?"

Deakins nodded. "Unless the Chief is given reason that you may be guilty. Anyway, I already have your shield. You need to bring your gun in and lock it up ASAP. As for the relationship, I told the Chief that I had known about from the very beginning and that as long as everything during working hours stayed professional...there would be no reason for me to report it."

Bobby was taken back by not only the lie his captain told the Chief, but by the fact that he had literally thrown himself under the bus for them. "Captain, you...you didn't have to do that. I'll take full responsibility--"

"Bobby, enough. I did what I had to do to protect you and Eames. I was there when you went missing, remember. I saw how she fell apart, and, I also saw how whole again she was after your return. Now, the last thing both of you need is to worry about your jobs once this is over and Eames is back here safe and sound."

He didn't know what to say to that, so Bobby just asked, "What'd the Chief say to that?"

"That I'm an idiot," he said with a slight smile as he started for the elevators. "A department hearing will be scheduled in the coming weeks, and it'll be noted in my jacket that I went against department regulations." Deakins stopped at his desk and allowed him time to gather up his notes and files for the case and shoving them into his binder. "He was still pissed of course, and you and Eames might have more suspension time coming, but...I don't think he's stupid enough to break you two up. If this can be kept out of the media and out of the department political circle, he might just over look it. Once it gets known, he'll have to act on it."

Bobby was surprised to hear that; he usually expected the worst, and this had been no exception. "Then, let's hope the Feds can keep their mouths shut and that there isn't a leak in the department."

"One can hope. Come on, I'll follow you home."

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

Elliot had gotten little sleep since leaving the Major Case Squad seven hours ago. He had tried getting some rest at home but the silence in the big empty house was too much for him. Since he and his wife had separated, he had been having trouble staying at home. He was missing the noise and the company of his family.

So, he had gone to the department and bunked out in the 'crib' only to have the Captain wake him up a couple of hours after he'd fallen asleep. After spending an hour taking to a girl who claimed rape against her uncle only to recant her story, he and Olivia returned to the department in time for lunch.

He was tempted to call Goren and see how he was holding up which was stupid seeing how the big detective was nowhere close to being okay. Plus, it wasn't like he and Goren were friends. The other detective would probably hang up on him anyway and not have anything to do with him.

Turning back to the case at hand, Elliot dove right into the new evidence they had received over the weekend. They had the completed list of all the people in New York who had purchased the Spyderco Civilian knife since it became available in 1992. It was a long list and over half were cops or worked security.

It took some time, but he feed the names into the computer and was cross referencing those with all the people who had a membership to the NYC Gym in the entire five boroughs when Olivia collapsed into the chair across from him. "This case is driving me crazy. The only two things that are certain is the gym and the knife."

"Speaking of the gym and the knife," Elliot said as he sat leaned back in his chair as he crossed his hands behind his head. "I took a closer look at the photos from all the victims; not all the wounds match the Civilian."

"Well, I'm not surprised; the Civilian wasn't made available until '92."

Stabler smiled smugly as he told her, "Yeah, but even the victims after that weren't a match. There have only been three victims who that knife was used on."

Olivia leaned on her desk as she eyed him. "Let me guess, the most recent three?"

Stabler held up the list they had of all the people who had ordered the knife since 1992. "There are only fifty people on this list that had purchased the knife within the last year. We're taking the first twenty-five, and let the Feds fight over the rest," he said as he marked the five for the FBI to track down before he called up the Manhattan FBI field office and got their fax number.

"How many are cops?" Olivia asked as he headed over the fax machine to fax the list of potential suspects.

Stabler's grin grew a little bit bigger as he told her, "Twelve, and they're all in our group. Oh, and I'm cross-referencing them with all the gym's memberships in all five boroughs and see who out of the twenty-five come up."

"You actually think the Feds will even look into those twenty-five suspects?"

Elliot shook his head. "No, that's why I was going to also give the list to Fin and Munch." He looked over at their vacated desks. "They must still be at lunch."

"Speaking of which, come on, lets grab something while we wait for the results."

They ended up at a corner diner and as soon as they walked in, Elliot spotted Fin and Munch sitting in a booth in the far corner.

"So, this is where you two have been hiding out," Olivia teased them as she sat next to Munch.

"We're discussing our case over good coffee and an FBI-free environment."

Elliot slid in beside Fin as he told Munch, "You don't have to worry 'bout the FBI any longer, they went back to their office early this morning and my guess is they're not coming back."

Fin looked over at him asking, "Are they actually pursuing Goren for this?"

"Looks that way," he told him.

"Bastards. This psycho takes his partner and now he has to be harassed by the FBI. That ain't right."

Elliot looked to his partner as they exchanged knowing looks. At the moment, only the two of them knew that Bobby and Alex were more than just partners. "Then let's make this as painless as possible for him by finding the guy." He pulled out the list of potential suspects and handed it to Fin. "Here, the last twenty-five, I need you and Munch to find out all you can about them. Also, I'm running the names against memberships to all the NYC Gyms; hopefully that'll narrow the list down a little."

"Cool." Fin looked over the list briefly before handing it to Munch. "We'll get right on it as soon as we finish the paperwork for our last case. The Cap is ready to threaten us with overtime and no weekends if we don't have it on his desk this afternoon."

Munch folded and put the list in his pocket as he told him, "You might want to run this list by Goren and see if he recognizes any of the names."

Elliot had thought of that, but he was extremely apprehensive about seeing Goren, especially with knowing how much grief and anger the man was experiencing. "I'll wait until we can shorten the list before I do that."

"I can do it," Fin offered. "He knows me, and he has no reason to be on his guard with me."

He didn't miss the way Fin looked in his direction when he said that last part. Elliot knew that he and Goren had their difference and for some reason that fueled their hostility toward each other. However, he was never the type to back away from hostility, and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to make sure that Goren wasn't losing it. "No," he said as he turned to face Fin. "I'll do it."

"You sure? Bobby can be...difficult."

Elliot couldn't help but smile at that. "I'll be fine. I'm used to difficult, I'm married."

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

His nerves were shot. There had been no time for sleep or for the breakdown he thought had been coming since he found Alex missing. As soon as he left the department with Deakins to go home, he had shut down the part of him that was exhausted and scared and focused all his energy on finding Alex.

He had noticed some things that he hadn't before. The knife wounds had changed throughout the thirty year time span, but also that the only victims that the Civilian was used on were the last three. All those women had been murdered in the last year. Also, they were the only three women who had ligature marks on their necks. With the first victim, the marks had been faint and only penetrating the front of the neck, like whatever the object was that had been used was being pulled against her neck from behind and then it stopped. It could have broke if it had been a necklace or a weak string.

What struck him the most was that those were the only variations to the previous M.O. It was odd that the killer decided to change his process with these three women. Why use a different kind of knife after using the same type all the other times? And then why suddenly did he want to strangle them first? He never strangled the any of the other victims. To him, it didn't make sense. Serial killers, once they found what worked for them, they stuck with it. It was part of their whole ritual and methodology. The smells, the tools used, the look of the victim, all of it served a purpose and gave them the greatest pleasure.

Why did his pleasure and his purpose change, and change that quickly?

Bobby rubbed at his head and leaned back in the chair. It was dark outside his window; he had been up all day again and it was now night time and he was beyond tired. His body felt drained of life as his head pounded furiously against his temples. The thought of one last cup of coffee made his stomach turn. If he smelt coffee just then he would probably get sick.

Getting up, he slowly made his way out the kitchen and down the hall. Looking into his room and at his big comfortable bed, he felt the familiar burn at his eyes. He was missing her terribly and it was sickening to think about her not coming back.

What would he do? How would he go on?

All those thoughts and more assaulted his scared mind as he shifted off the doorframe and eased up to the bed. It wasn't the thought of sleep that urged him to the bed, but her scent. He crawled onto the bed and breathed in her smell on the pillow as he gripped it so hard to his chest and finally his body gave up. He fell on against the bed, her pillow clenched to him, as his body shook with pent up grief.

Bobby wasn't sure how long he laid there, but the sound of knocking on his door brought him out of his misery. It took him a moment to pry himself away from one of the few things he had of her in his apartment to answer his door. The knocking was coming from his front door, and that worried him.

He turned the locks and barely opened the door. The man he saw there stunned him; it wasn't who he was expecting at all. Bobby didn't move to let him in until he heard his voice.

"I know it's late," Stabler tried to sound apologetic, but it wasn't something that fit the tough detective well. "Can I come in?"

Bobby was confused at why Stabler was there and as soon as his foggy tired brain woke up, he was in a near panic. "What happened? Did...Has she--"

Stabler held up his hands and pushed him against the chest and Bobby realized that he was towering over the man. "Whoa, calm down, Goren."

Bobby stiffened at the contact before looking anxiously around the street. He didn't see any cop cars around.

"We still haven't found her," Stabler was telling him. "Look, I came by to talk to you, that's all."

Bobby finally felt himself relax as he realized that Stabler wasn't there give him bad news. Then he was once again hit by the pain that they still didn't know anything and that Alex was still missing. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet and he was fearing the worst.

Soon, they would only have four days to find her before...

"Goren, please, back up, go inside, and let me get you some water or something. Kay?"

Bobby blinked down at Stabler in a light daze. He was starting to freak his own self out. "Yeah, okay." He led the other detective into his house and shut and locked the door behind them.

"The Feds been here yet?"

Bobby nodded as he pointed to the entryway to the kitchen. "They looked around, but..." he trailed off, leaving it at that. He had told Stabler that they wouldn't find anything. "Wanna beer?"

"Sure, I'm off duty."

Bobby grabbed two from the refrigerator and handed one to Stabler before he sat down at the table. It was scattered with notes, photos, and files from the case; he even had some on the floor because his table wasn't big enough.

"I see you've been keeping yourself busy."

Bobby rubbed at his tired eyes at were bloodshot before glaring up at Stabler. "What'd you want?"

Stabler pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to him. "We have a list of suspects. I want to know if you recognize anyone."

He eyed the paper Stabler was holding out for him before he tentatively took it. "The knife, it's different," Bobby announced. "And, the, um...The strangulation it's a new thing...that, he does."

Stabler sat down across from him and eyed the photos. "I figured out that the knife was different this afternoon. As for the strangulation, since we don't have all the photos of the older victims, I wasn't going to rule it as something new. Maybe he had done it early on, as a kid, and then changed when he got older."

"And now, something uh...sparked that behavior in him again? Maybe...maybe something or someone reminded him of it and he started, um...craving it again."

"Maybe you," Stabler said before he took a drink.

Bobby looked up at him from where he was staring at the photos on the table. "Me?"

Stabler nodded. "Yeah. Seeing you, and knowing who you are, reminded the guy of his past killings. He wanted that connection back."

"He wants to relive the first murder over again?" Bobby had to admit, it fit, almost. "I...uh, I'm gonna have to think about that after I've slept for a few hours."

Stabler chuckled as he stood and ventured around the kitchen and then disappeared into the darkness of the house.

Bobby figured the list as he took a few drinks of the beer. Taking a breath, he unfolded the sheet and looked over the names as he searched for any connection he had with any of them. By the time Stabler came back into the kitchen, he had finished. "Three. Cliff Anderson, he worked in Narcotics the first year I was there before he transferred out to homicide. I knew a Cory Limbaugh who was, um...a bookie, long ago. I don't know if it's the same guy."

"And the last guy?"

Bobby tossed the sheet on the table as he said, "Blake Stone. He's a detective with the Major Case Squad."

TBC...


	11. Tuesday, October 12, 2004

**A/N:** Okay, another chapter! Thanks everyone for the reviews and encouragement.

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

_There was nowhere for them to go. In every direction there was a solid wall entrapping them. She shivered against his body, trying to stay close and warm as he pulled her along with him around the large room, trying to find some way to get out._

_The smell was familiar as he breathed in the scent of mold, dust, and death. Blood was staining the walls and the floor and the stench was making it hard to breath. _

_Her arms held him tighter as she let out a soft cry, "Bobby." The tremble in her voice shook him to his core._

_He looked down and froze at the sight. Blood was starting to seep through her clothes from slash wounds that suddenly appeared on her body. She trembled against him one last time before her body went slack and fell to the floor._

_"Alex," he yelled at her as he bent down to cradle her in his arms. "Alex, no! Wake up, baby, please..." he pleaded as he tried to put pressure on the wounds but there were too many of them._

_The bleeding wasn't stopping and he watched helplessly as her life slowly faded away._

He was being shaken as a voice, a man's voice, drifted into his consciousness.

"Wake up, Goren. You're having a nightmare...come on, wake up."

Bobby's confused and scared mind panicked at the man's voice. His body stiffened and jerked with anger before he threw a fist toward the voice. He felt it collide with something hard, sending a shock wave of pain flaring in his already aching left hand.

"Aw, shit!"

He heard the loud yelp before his eyes parted. The room was dark with only the light from the television that flickered over the room was on. Once his eyes focused, and he could see clearly, Bobby realized who he had hit.

Stabler was lying on the floor, feeling his head with his hand as he glared up at him. "If you hadn't been dreaming, I would pound you into that couch, Goren," he gritted out of his tensed jaw.

Bobby frowned down at the cop in confusion before his memories came back to him. Stabler had stopped by last night to give him that list of potential suspects, and he had recognized three of the names, one being a detective with in the same squad.

Stone, the bastard.

He groaned as he sat up on the couch and rubbed at his own head that was still in pain. Leaning heavily on his knees, he ran his hands over his face and jaw, feeling the beard growth, as he eyed the coffee table in front of him.

Bobby watched as Stabler pulled himself off the floor and collapsed onto the couch. "What're you still doing here?"

Stabler rubbed at the side of his head as he told him, "I fell asleep at the kitchen table. Think that fourth beer done me in."

Bobby took the remote for the television and checked the time. It was only three in the morning. "Um, you can sleep here, if...I mean, it's probably not a good thing for you to drive. Take the couch..." he tossed the remote back on the table as he stood.

He was halfway to his bedroom when he heard Stabler behind him.

"Thanks."

Bobby pushed his bedroom door open and stared once again at his bed with no Alex in it. This was torture. He pulled her pillow to him as he eased down onto the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't bother to undress or even pull the covers down as he laid there and drifted off to a troubled sleep.

It wasn't long after that he woke; he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as the pain and fear consumed his body, mind, and soul.

He couldn't believe this was happening. First, he had been taken by a psycho and tortured. All the while, Alex had been the one to suffer the lose of him and through the not knowing for months. Now, it was happening all over again except things were now reversed. He knew that the waiting wouldn't last for months. They had four days to either find her alive or they would find her dead.

The tears finally broke from his burning red eyes to slid over his temples, through his hair, and onto his pillow. It felt like he was drowning in a pool of misery and pain as his lungs constricted before he let out a rippling breath. Clenching his eyes shut, he did something that he hadn't done in many long years.

He prayed.

* * *

It was six in the morning and he hadn't been able to go back to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alex alone and afraid or being tortured and dying. He couldn't stop the thoughts or the images; he tired to no avail. It was like his own mind was getting pleasure in taunting him.

After showering and getting dressed, he downed some aspirin for the pain before he headed toward the kitchen. Entering the living room, he heard soft snoring coming from his couch. Looking over the back of it, he saw Stabler fast asleep. At least he was able to sleep well.

The thought of coffee was unappealing and he wasn't sure if he even had any left or not, and hot tea so early in the morning without any food in his stomach was a bad idea. That always made him feel sick to his stomach. So...he was left with very few options. Thankfully there were a couple of Power Aids left in his fridge and at the moment that was the best choice seeing how he was out of juice as well.

"Got another one of those?"

Bobby turned toward and saw Stabler walking through the entryway rubbing at the side of his head while trying to suppress a yawn. "Uh, yeah, here," he handed him the one he had yet to open before taking the last one for himself.

"Thanks," Stabler mumbled as he unscrewed the lid and downed half of it.

He watched the detective that had somehow found his way not only into his home, but suddenly into his life as well. Bobby wasn't sure how he felt about that just yet, whether or not he was comfortable with Stabler knowing more about his personal and private life. It as a situation that was unnerving him because it was only because of Alex that they were able to tolerate each other for as long as they had been. Before she went missing, Alex had wanted him to try and be nicer to him because she wanted to be his friend along with Benson.

Bobby understood the importance of friendships, and he valued deeply the very few that he had. So, he had tried, and was still trying, as he didn't throw Stabler out of his house last night. Instead, he had allowed him to stay and even explore his house without caring what he saw or thought about it. For all he knew, Stabler had gone into his study, which was the only room in the house that he felt were the most private and his alone. It was his sanctuary most of the time. It was weird how just being in that room could calm him, give him order amongst chaos, and focus him when nothing else could.

Normally, he would have gone in that room by now. He would have taken solace in the presence of the all that order and perfection. The perfectly organized books and magazines, the medals and accommodations that showed him the successes in his life, the photos of the people who gave him their complete trust and friendship because they wore the same uniform and fought for the same cause. It helped to solidify the importance of what he was doing and the life he was living.

However, right then, with Alex missing and him feeling that it was his fault, he was afraid that if he went into his study he would destroy it. Tear it apart and set it on fire. It was worthless to him now. The only thing and the only person he cared about now more than anything was Alex, everything else could go up in flames for all he cared. And that thought frightened him more than anything did.

He had never put anyone above his work. Not even his own mother, and she had let him know more than once how she was hurt and disappointed because of it. He was his work, his job, and all the things that made him really good at it. The titles of 'detective' and 'profiler' were him personified. When he died, he had always thought that what would be on his tombstone were those words instead of the usual 'husband' and 'father' that were on most. He was sure the word 'son' would be on it somewhere too; he was never sure about the 'loved' part.

Now, he was realizing that he was starting to put Alex above all else. He couldn't believe he had told Deakins he would rather lose his job and be fired than see Alex lose hers. There was no room for debate with him over it. If he had to be the one to get the full punishment, then so be it.

When had that happened? There wasn't even a thought in his head about being someone else's partner or transferring. He automatically thought of giving up his work, his job, and his life for Alex.

"Do you always do that?"

Bobby was shaken out of his thoughts by that question. Looking over at Stabler, he asked, "What?"

Stabler was looking concerned as he told him, "You, I don't know, disappeared into your head. Do you always do that?"

Bobby shrugged a little as he simply answered, "Sometimes." He took a big gulp of the Power Aid before he headed out of the kitchen. "Uh, I guess you can shower here if you want." He pointed down the hall as he said, "There're clean, um, towels in the bathroom closet."

"Yeah, okay. I've got my work bag out in my car, so...I'll be right back." Stabler grabbed his keys off the coffee table and went out the front door. A second later, the door opened and he tossed in the paper toward him.

Bobby caught it and flipped it over to the front. The headline of the 'Ledger' made his blood run cold as he stared at the words. 'NYPD Detective Missing, Unstable Partner Questioned', and there were three pictures on the front page: one was of Alex's taped off apartment, one was Alex's graduation photo, and the other was a picture of him that ran in the 'Ledger' last year during the whole Croyden/Wallace case.

Turning the page, he quickly scanned the words in the article.

_"The Major Case Squad's prized team of detectives has been shattered as Detective Alexandra Eames has gone missing from her apartment early Monday morning. Her partner, Detective Robert Goren, has been suspended from duty after he was questioned by the FBI investigating the case. It's no surprise seeing how Detective Goren is no stranger to controversy. Last year he had been accused of driving an innocent man to commit suicide, the suicide note was directed at the detective, blaming him. And that was after Goren had been abducted himself; he had been missing for nearly three months before escaping but the damage to the detective's mind was done. Shortly after the police arrived, Goren had suffered a complete mental breakdown. Then just a few short months ago, Goren had been reported as to going to bat for the serial murderer Cannibal John Tagman, and was responsible for Tagman's life in prison sentence instead of the death penalty. It's a wonder why the NYPD reinstated the man. Now, this reporter can't help but wonder if the PD is now questioning that decision."_

His was unaware that gripping the paper so hard that when it ripped in two he was stunned. Staring at the two halves, Bobby cursed not only at his anger but at the reporter that wrote the article. He never minded the media before, or reporters, and most of the time he had used them to his advantage to catch at killer. But reading that had made him sound insane and that he was guilty for what happened to Alex.

It turned his stomach and that made him furious all over again as he crumbled the paper up and threw it, not caring where it went of the fact that the paper broke up and was littering his entire floor. The news vultures were out to get him, and now the public probably thought he was a suspect as well and possibly guilty.

Bobby could care less what most to the people of New York thought. The news liked to stir up controversy and make something that isn't true or held no substance in fact the reality when in truth it wasn't. They just wanted to sell papers and excite the public; even the papers that said they wanted to print on the truth twisted facts to please the masses. It never bothered him before, but now, with being the one that was getting screwed by them, he felt like beating the shit out of every single one of them.

Going into his bedroom, he picked up his cell phone and nearly paled at all the missed calls. There were seventeen. Looking through them, not one of them were from someone he knew except for a reporter from the 'Ledger' that he was friends with. All of them were other reporters or were with news stations, and all of them wanted a comment.

Sitting down on his bed, he held his head in his hands as it pounded. Bobby had been under pressure before and been faced with adversity, but never at this multitude. The fact that Alex was gone and her disappearance was the reason for all this was like a nightmare.

It was worst than a nightmare because there was no waking up from this to something better. Alex was no longer there to comfort him.

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

It didn't take long for her to realize that she was alone. There were no noises around her; no soft deep breathing to be heard, no footsteps or sounds of preparation. Nothing. The room was dark, nearly pitch black with the only light, a red dim coming in through the window near the ceiling.

She was in a basement apartment off the a side-street. The room was large being used as both the living and dining room. She could make out a table, a few counters around the walls, and near the back of the room, she could barely make out a stove and sink. There had to be a door over there next to the kitchen and a bedroom off that room somewhere to her left. Even though she was in an apartment, it didn't smell like it was being lived in and there was no other furniture in the room to suggest that someone was living there.

It was either vacant or the owner of it lived upstairs; maybe even directly over her. If she was in a brownstone, it could be possible that the guy owned that whole side and made it into one house. That was what her sister Angie and her husband did.

Her hands rubbed against the drywall as she tried to free her hands from the tight binding that held them behind her back. Her legs were also bound by rope and she couldn't get the rope down far enough to try and pull her feet out because there was another rope that tied the binding around her wrists and her legs together behind her. The asshole thought of everything.

Her mouth was taped but for some reason the guy didn't blindfold her. He didn't care if she could see him or her surroundings. The guy was also cocky and sure of himself. Well, she wasn't going to go down without a fight and she knew she had several days to try and get out of there. She knew the timeline and knew that he would take his time before he would kill her.

If she didn't get out of there first.

* * *

_Major Case Squad_

Elliot had called ahead to Captain Deakins and told him he was on his way there to talk to Detective Stone. Deakins was curious as to why another one of his detectives was being questioned but once he explained back the evidence they had and that it was just a formality, the Captain agreed.

The squad room was usually bursting with activity, but not today. Most of the detectives were quiet as they did their work and he caught a few of them looking at the two desks that were absent of the two people that usually occupied them. Elliot also didn't miss the looks he received as he headed to the Captain's office and knocked on the door.

Deakins waved him on in and he watched as the detectives out in the squad tried to hid their suspicions and concerns as he shut the door. Elliot took the chair across from Deakins desk as he asked, "Is Detective Stone in yet?"

The Captain shook his head. "He's out on a case; I called him and he said he was on his way back and should be here shortly." He then leaned back in his chair and eyed him. "What's this really about, Detective Stabler?"

Elliot shook his head slightly as he told him, "Nothing that I hadn't already told you. I went to see Goren last night, after we compiled a list of potential suspects. We cross-referenced the names of the people who purchased the murder weapon with memberships to the gym...Goren knew three of the names on the list, one being Detective Stone. it doesn't mean that he's involved. Being a cop, it's not surprising that he has a membership to that gym. _I_ have a membership to that gym. Also, the kind of knife that was used is popular with law enforcement officials, so, like I said over the phone this is just a formality."

Deakins still looked skeptical but didn't voice his concern as he got up and asked, "Wanna cup of coffee?" He went to the table behind him and pour a cup.

"No, thanks. I'm actually burnt out on coffee at the moment."

He didn't tell him about staying up with Goren for hours going over the case and the possibilities of Detective Stone's connection, if there was one. After he had showered and changed, he had left to come straight to the Major Case Squad after calling Liv. Goren naturally didn't offer to tell him where he was going and Elliot didn't ask. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"There he is," Deakins announced as he sat back in his chair.

He turned his head and watched as a man about as tall as him but nearly as broad with short black hair approach the office. If Elliot hadn't known that Stone was forty-four years of age, he would have sworn that the detective was barely a day older than thirty. His suit, hair-cut, smooth baby face, and youthful grin were deceiving.

Then, once Stone opened his mouth, Elliot also realized that he was as cocky as a rookie too.

"So, you're the guy from the sex police who wanted to talk to me?"

Elliot looked at Deakins who was glaring at his detective.

"Detective, you're speaking to a fellow officer, and I expect you to give him some respect or else you'll be out of here so quickly you wouldn't know what hit you. There are plenty of places I can transfer you to, and not one of them will be one you're qualified for, you get me?"

Stone visibly paled at the verbal reprimand he had just received, but the arrogance never wavered as he looked back at him. "Detective Stabler, what can I help you with today?"

Elliot crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed the detective. He thought that Goren was the most egotistical cop in Major Case; this Stone guy completely blew Goren out of the water with his self-centeredness. "I just have some questions. We can either do it here or we can go into a more...private room."

Stone had a smug smile on his face the Elliot was itching to knock off him as he said, "It doesn't matter, Detective. I'm not answering anything without a warrant or my lawyer present."

He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head. "You've got to be kidding. You, a highly elite detective is refusing to cooperate?"

"I'm not refusing. I will answer any and all questions you have for me, but only if I am properly given full use of my rights. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to my case." Stone went to leave when Deakins stopped him before he could open the door.

"Detective Stone, if you walk out that door, you have no case." Once Stone turned to face him, Deakins continued, "I can't force you to talk to Detective Stabler, but I can control what you do for the rest of this week."

Stone eyed the captain as he asked, "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm telling you to do your duty in helping this detective find your missing colleague. If you are unwilling to do that...it's not going to look good for you."

Captain Deakins backing of him, but also his stern command of his unit surprised Elliot. He was usually on the receiving end of these kinds of speeches, but he had no pity for Stone. All the times he had gone up against Cragen it was usual because he was pushing too hard to help or to get a confession.

Stone finally sighed as he nodded. "Fine. I'll answer whatever questions he might have."

Elliot wanted to get the questioning over with as soon as possible. He was afraid if he spent more than five minutes in the room with Stone, he would be arrested for assault and battery. He couldn't rush this interview though, he had to get all the information he could out of this guy. "We have evidence that you own a certain kind of knife, the Spyderco Civilian. Is that correct?"

Stone only gave a nod as he said simply, "I do."

"What was your reason to purchase that knife?"

"Does it matter?"

Elliot shrugged a little. "Just a question. I was curious seeing how it's not common, that's all."

Stone smiled and shook his head. "Fine, I bought it for the Job. A buddy of mine had one, told me it's a good weapon to have just in case...I got one."

"Who's your buddy?"

"None of your business."

Elliot pulled out the list from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. "Is your buddy on here? And you can sit down to look it over; this is going to take some time."

Stone eyed the sheet of paper before he snatched it out of his hand and sat down. After a long couple of minutes, he handed it back to him. "No, he isn't."

Elliot smiled slightly as he took the sheet back from the detective. "Where were you Sunday night to early Monday morning?"

Stone stood and buttoned his suit jacket. "Home, alone, and asleep in my bed."

"Let me guess, you have no one to confirm that?"

"Would you?"

Elliot stilled as the anger flared in him. "Excuse me?"

Stone's smug grin returned as he said, "Could you provide someone to verify that you were home asleep during those hours if asked? Maybe you could have before your divorce, but not know."

Elliot stared hard at Stone as he said, "We're separated, not divorced."

"Oh, that's right, you Catholics don't believe in that."

Elliot would have hit the guy if Deakins wasn't suddenly in front of him, blocking his path.

"Detective, I warned you once, now you're suspended for the rest of the day. I don't want to see you back here until tomorrow, you got that?"

Stone held up his hands in mock surrender as he turned and left the room.

"What made you keep that prick on your squad for so long?" Elliot asked once Stone was heading toward his desk.

Deakins sighed and shook his head. "He wasn't that bad when he first got here. After Goren was taken, he was partnered with Eames and...well, let's just say it was like oil and water. Eames hated the guy, and Stone wasn't making it easy for her. Then, after Goren returned, Stone started shaping up, working better."

"So, what happened?"

"I don't know. He was given the option of joining a Task Force so he took it. He's been gone for months, just recently got back. This behavior, I've never known him to act that way."

Elliot watched as Stone left the squad room. "Captain, may I ask, who were all involved in the joint task force?"

"A few guys from Major Case, Narcotics, and Vice, as well as a couple of agents with the FBI."

With that added information, Elliot's was stunned. He was getting his best lead in this serial rape/murder case and the first guy that was matching up with the profile was a Major Case Squad detective. "Captain, I'm afraid you might be down one more detective. I'm going to present this information to my Captain and ADA; it's very likely that Detective Stone will be investigated as a suspect."

Deakins stared at him for a long moment before he looked out into the squad. Turning back, he told him, "Step into him."

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

Their ADA Casey Novak was already at the department when he arrived. Elliot greeted her as they both headed toward Cragen's office. "Counselor, I was just about to call you."

"Oh, really, Stabler? This must be huge if you were going to call me personally."

Elliot held the door open for her as he waved Olivia over, indicating that he wanted her in there for the meeting. "Nah, I just missed hearing your condescending voice."

That surprised Novak as she told him, "And you're telling jokes. I was wrong; this isn't huge, it's monumental."

Once everyone was gathered into Cragen's office, Elliot told them about all the evidence they had in the case and his recent interview with Detective Stone. Upon finishing, he turned to the ADA and said, "I want a search warrant for Detective Stone."

She was standing next to Cragen's desk with her arms across her chest. "A Major Case Detective. Have you lost your mind?"

"If I had lost my mind I'll be going right along with the FBI in their reckless investigation against Detective Goren. None of the evidence points to him. Everything, so far, is pointing to Detective Stone, and Captain Deakins gave me permission to investigate him if we have reason to believe he's involved. I have my reasons, and now so do you."

"I think there's something to it," Cragen spoke up from his desk. "If we were coming to you with this much evidence, even as circumstantial as it is, for any other person, Casey, you would be all over it."

"Yes, I would," she agreed, "but this isn't just anyone. It's a cop, and you better be damn sure you're ready to back this up against the Chief of Detective's when he comes knocking on your door."

Cragen looked from him to Olivia and then back to Novak. "I am. If you're afraid--"

Novak huffed out a laugh at that as she looked exasperated. "Afraid? Don't pull that on me, Captain Cragen. I'm not afraid to follow this and prosecute if it comes to that. I'm just making sure your detectives aren't running a suicide mission."

"We're not," Olivia told her sternly, and a bit of anger laced her voice. "As of now, we have enough probable cause for a search warrant, not for an arrest warrant. We would ruin Detective Stone's career if it turns out that we're wrong."

"No, we'll just ruin his career once we find out we're right." Elliot eyed Novak right back as she glared at him.

"Fine," she finally agreed. "You'll have your warrant first thing tomorrow. That's how long I have to assure the department and the Chief that the DA's office isn't trying to completely destroy the PD's reputation."

Elliot watched as she left before turning back to Cragen. "I want your permission for a stakeout tonight, at Stone's residence."

Cragen asked, "Captain Deakins really gave you permission to investigate his detective?"

Elliot nodded. "He told me to 'step into him'."

Cragen shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "That means he really wants you to go after him, and... He thinks he's guilty. I'll approve the stakeout."

"Thanks," he told his captain before he left the office with Olivia coming up behind him.

"How's Bobby holding up?"

Elliot eyed her as he sat down at his desk. "Bobby?"

Olivia shrugged. "What? It's his name, _Elliot_."

He didn't' give a response to that as he read over the report Fin tossed on his desk about the people they had talked to so far who were on their list. "Fin and Munch got nothing. All the ones they questioned so far either had alibis or they weren't in the State at the time...one guy's dead." He tossed the file down and rubbed his eyes. "I think _Goren_ should be in on this stakeout."

She stared wide-eyed at him in disbelief as she asked, "Do you think that's a wise decision, El? He's going through a lot and having him there might jeopardize the case."

"He knows how important this is to finding Eames, he's not going to do something that stupid," Elliot said, defending Goren and his decision.

"Why are you suddenly confident in him and his abilities?"

Elliot hated it when she turned things around on him like that. "I'll watch him," was what he told her instead of answering her all too personal question. "Okay?"

Olivia wasn't looking too happy but she agreed anyway. "Okay, but if he shoots the guy, I'm blaming you."

* * *

_5484 N. St. Claire Street_

_Forest Hill, Queens_

This was going to be painful, but he had to do it. He knew he had to because it was the right thing to do. Plus, he had nowhere else to go and no one else to talk to. If he had it his way, he would have been working so hard on the case that he wouldn't have noticed anyone around him or even thought about anyone else. That wasn't the case now, and the more he thought about the case and Alex the more he thought about them as well.

He had to talk to them and set things straight as while as reassure them that everything was being done to find Alex. It was the only considerate thing to do. That was the most important part, the thing that he needed to remember as he approached the house.

His car was back at his house because he was too tired to drive. The subway ride wasn't too long, but he had barely kept himself awake so not to miss his stop. Then there was the walk to the neighborhood that had drained him of most of the energy he had left. He needed sleep and he knew the only way it was going to happen was if he either completely dissolved himself of energy or if he drank himself to death. He was trying hard not to do the former.

Steadying himself against the railing leading up the steps to the door, Bobby raised his hand and knocked. He had seen a light on in a back room which seemed to be the kitchen, but he had no idea if anyone was awake or not. It was a chance he had to take because he was being considerate.

He heard the locks turn before the door slowly opened. Bobby glanced up from the stoop to be staring into the surprised yet worried eyes of John Eames. Alex's dad looked stressed, worry lines etched into his features as he stared back at him. He was only dressed in a white shirt and a pair of sweatpants, probably having tried to get some sleep but couldn't, much like him.

Bobby cleared his dry throat as he softly asked, "May I come in?"

John didn't hesitate to move aside and allow him access to his house. Bobby stopped in the foyer as he spotted the people in the living room fast asleep. Most of Alex's siblings were in there taking up John's couch and floor.

"I, uh...I can...I can go if--"

"It's okay," John told him as he led him into the kitchen. "It's a good thing that you're here; shows you care."

Bobby followed him as silently as he could into the kitchen so not to wake anyone up. If they were anywhere close to going as crazy as he was, they needed the rest.

John already had a pot of coffee on and he refilled the cup he had been filling another one. He sat it in front of him and then slid the cream and sugar over to him before sitting down.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Bobby prepared the coffee like he wanted it but barely sipped it as he rubbed at his head and eyes while he stared at the kitchen table.

"We saw the papers," John finally spoke, breaking the silence in the house.

Bobby's hand stilled as he peered up at John from hard-closed eyelids. "Oh?"

John lowered the cup to the table and nodded. "Don't worry, we're not blaming you. We know how the media works and how reporters can be. They take any small rumor and turn it into fact and blow it way out of proportion."

Bobby smiled a little as he took a sip of the coffee. He was starting to hate the taste having been doing nothing but drinking it for days straight. "I was...um, worried, about that. I'm just...I'm glad that they didn't...that, our relationship, wasn't...you know."

"That would have been the end of you both," John agreed. "Still might be if word gets out."

"I let my captain know. I told him, if it comes to it, I'll give up my job so she wouldn't have to lose hers."

That made John sit back in the chair and eye him closely. "You'd do that for her?"

Bobby eyed him right back as he said, "I'd do just about anything for her. She's the only thing good and...worthy in my, damned existence."

He was really beating himself up and he wasn't sure, even if Alex was found, if he could completely recover from the damage he was doing to himself.

TBC...


	12. Wednesday, October 13, 2004 pt1

**A/N:** Once again, so sorry for the very long delay in updating. I'll try to do better! This was also broken up into 2 parts because it's a really long day.

Enjoy!

* * *

_John & Emily Eames' House_

It had been a while since John left him alone in the kitchen. He would look periodically toward the chair Alex's father had once occupied and bite his bottom lip in thought. In a way, he was glad he was alone, he was used to the solidarity, but a part of him wished he had stayed just for the company. Bobby didn't think that they had any more to say to each other; all the important things were already out in the open.

The sense of desperation that was starting to engulf him was suddenly broken by the ringing of his cell. Hurrying to answer it before it woke the people in the other room; he flipped it open and softly answered, "Goren."

"You awake?"

It was Stabler. Bobby rubbed at his tired eyes and nodded into the phone. "Yeah."

"Are you awake enough to go on a stakeout with me?"

At the mention of work, he sat up straighter in the chair. In a more alert and clearer voice, lacking the tiredness and desperation, he answered, "Uh, yeah…Who? Where?"

"A colleague of yours gave us reason to suspect him."

Bobby immediately knew who he was talking about. The thought of Stone and his possible involvement with Alex's disappearance turned his stomach and spurred his rage. "I'm…not at home. In Queens, Forest Hills."

"Great, I'm in Glen Oaks. Give me the address and I'll be there in twenty."

Bobby quickly gave him the address as he got up from the table and emptied the cup of cold coffee into the sink. After he got off the phone with Stabler, he used the pen and notepad next to the phone to leave a short 'thank you' message for John. Making sure the door locked behind him, he left the house and waited on the small porch for Stabler to arrive.

Less than twenty minutes later, he spotted a dark SUV coming down the street. It slowed to a slow stop in front of him as the window slid down. Stabler was behind the wheel and waved him over.

"Munch has been watching him since five," Stabler told him as soon as he buckled his seat belt. "Have you been to bed yet?"

"Do I look that bad?"

Stabler glanced at him and gave a curt nod, "Yeah. At least you shower."

Bobby laughed a little even though it hurt to do it. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally; he was laughing at a stupid joke while Alex was still missing and possibly being tortured. "Where's your partner?"

"She's hanging with Fin tonight. They're already at Stone's townhouse. Once we get there, we'll be watching the front while they take back." Stabler was quiet and they didn't speak much for the rest of the drive through Queens. It wasn't until they were on the Williamsburg Bridge, crossing into Manhattan, when he told him, "Liv's worried about you being invited."

Bobby was a little surprised to hear that coming from Stabler, and about Benson. She was the one who usually had his back between the two detectives. "What, uh…what'd you think?"

"I'm the one who invited you."

Bobby glanced at Stabler before turning back to watching the city get bigger and bigger. It was a simple statement, and a simple request, but it held loads of meaning. He took the rest of the time it took them to cross the bridge thinking about it before he shifted gears to focus on the job.

* * *

_Blake Stone's Townhouse_

_445 W. 23__rd__ Street_

_Chelsea, Manhattan_

Detective Stone lived in a townhouse on the corner of 23rd Street and 10th Avenue. Fin and Benson were stationed on 10th facing North toward 24th and directly on the corner of the alley that went along the back of the townhouses. He and Stabler were on 23rd facing East toward 9th, and they had been there for over an hour.

Bobby was staring out of the windshield at the front door of the townhouse as he told Stabler, "I don't think it's him." He had been trying to fit Stone into the profile had created of the killer and the arrogant detective just didn't, and wouldn't, fit.

"What makes you say that?"

"He's not this smart." Bobby took a hesitant glance at Stabler, the other detective wasn't paying any attention to him, before continuing, "He's...unorganized, has no patience, and he's an overall coward. In a heated moment he has the balls, but this...its way too, clever. Stone isn't clever."

"I agree."

Bobby turned to look at Stabler who was looking at him, having gotten his full attention. He didn't expect him to agree, and it surprised yet thrilled him.

"I got that from him too. Stone's impulsive and has a quick temper--much quicker than mine," Stabler added jokingly. "I do think that he might've killed the FBI guy though."

"Yeah, that fits him. Like you said, he's impulsive and quick tempered...so, he had an impulsive reaction to whatever happened between him and the FBI Agent and killed him. Or, it could've been an accident and he didn't realize who he had killed until after." Bobby liked the former explanation better; he didn't want anyone to be a ruthless killer, even a hot-head like Stone.

"Think he held onto the knife?"

Bobby relaxed against the door, covering his mouth with his right hand as he muttered honestly, "I don't know. Maybe."

"You think I gave him reason to get rid of the knife?"

That question was so full of guilt and anguish that it shook him for a moment. Bobby heard the underlining meaning of that. Stabler wanted to know if he was responsible for Stone getting away with murder. "I, uh...I don't know." It was the only thing he could say, because he didn't.

Bobby quickly opened the door and got out. The air was getting too heavy and thick between the two of them that he needed to get some that was fresh. He walked about two car lengths down from the SUV and lit a cigarette. In a moment of weakness earlier that day he broke down and bought a pack. He was doing a lot of breaking down recently, except for physically which would come eventually.

Looking around the street, he watched as a few taxi cabs went by. The street wasn't too busy seeing how it was two in the morning, but it wasn't dull either. A few people would pass by him every so often as they went home or was just leaving. The nightlife in New York never stopped; it went on 'til dawn. A movement at the townhouse door caught his attention.

Stone was leaving.

Bobby hurried to the truck and tapped on the window. Once it was slid down halfway, he told Stabler, "I'm following on foot." He didn't give the detective time to answer, or yell at him, before he was across the street.

For being a Major Case detective, Stone was an easy tail. He was oblivious to his surroundings and the fact that he was being followed by not only him, but a SUV as well. Bobby could see the dim lights and hear the humming motor of the SUV as it followed at a distance. Crossing over 9th, he pulled up the collar on his jacket as the lights from the commercial area brightened the street. On that side of 9th, there were restaurants, stores, and a bodega that Stone slipped into.

Coming to a stop next to the window, Bobby peered through and saw Stone using an ATM before exiting. They continued on their way, and Bobby worked slowly on the cigarette in his mouth as Stone watched the women who walked by them. At Stone turned him head, Bobby ducked his as he walked closer to the sidewalk. It appeared the Stone only had eyes for the two brunettes and had no idea he was even there.

Bobby shook his head as he put his cigarette out on a light pole before flicking it into the trash bin on the corner. As they crossed over 8th Avenue, he saw where they were going. Stone was getting on the subway. Slowly his steps, he let Stone get ahead of him and get down the landing before he hurried after him. He was afraid if he had followed right along with Stone that he would have looked back to see who was coming down behind him.

He caught sight of Stone already going through the turnstile and he quickly pulled out his wallet a pass-card and slid it through for payment. As soon as he slipped his wallet back into his pocket and slid through the turnstile, Stone turned.

The moment their eyes locked, Stone took off on a dead run.

Bobby wasn't too far behind him. The platform was thankfully empty as he chased Stone across it and into the train going uptown. Stone was darting down an aisle and going from car to car before jumping out back to the platform. He barely made it out of the train before the doors closed and hurried to jump on the train Stone had gotten on, the one heading downtown, just as the doors closed behind him.

Bobby huffed in some air as he looked around and caught a blur of the man coming toward him before a fist collided with the left side of his face. He stumbled to the side, into the seats, as Stone descended upon him. Another fist caught him on his right side of his chin before he was able to defend himself. Seeing the other fist coming, he blocked it before pounding a solid punch to Stone's gut before landing his left fist into his the side of his head.

Stone fell to the floor and rolled around for a moment. Bobby was keeping his eyes on him until the train car went black. The lights starting flicking on and off, making it hard to see that Stone was getting up and lunging toward him. Stone impacted his legs and wrapped his arms around his waist. He felt the weight push down on his right knee a give.

Bobby screamed as the pain shot from his knee up the entire right side of his body as he fell to the train floor with Stone on top of him. He started to see red and it wasn't all from the pain that ripped through his body but from the eruption of his anger. Stone threw a hard right toward him but Bobby caught the fist in his hot hand and twisted the arm hard as his right hand shot up and gripped Stone's throat.

He could see the sudden fear and panic in Stone's eyes as he started panicking, using his left hand to scratch and pull at his tight hand on his throat. Bobby held firmly as he suddenly pulled Stone's right arm across his chest hard while at the same time throwing his head to his left in the opposite direction and then let go of both. Stone couldn't stop the momentum of his body it impacted the seats next to them hard.

Bobby rolled to his right, away from Stone's collapsing body, and grabbed the seat next to him. He pulled himself up and sat down with a 'thump' as he tried to control his breathing. Leaning his head back against the window he rubbed at his face and threw his hair trying to calm his anger before he did something worse to Stone, like kill him. He had his gun—having gotten it when he had gone home earlier. It dug into his back, under his flannel shirt reminding him that it was still there. He didn't want to use it, and he hoped he wouldn't have to, not on another officer anyway.

Watching the other man, Bobby knew he was hurt. Stone was moaning against the floor holding the right side of his head and favoring the left side of his body. It took a long while, but Stone finally was able to pull himself up into the seats and sit down, facing him. He saw the blood trickle down his face from the small gash by his right eye. Stone winced in pain as he tried to shift his weight to his left and held his ribs. Some could have been fractured; he had taken a hard enough hit.

Neither one of them spoke for several long minutes. Bobby stared out the opposite window as the train came to various stops before continuing on its way. He had a good idea where they were going but had no idea how far along the line they were.

"I didn't take Alex."

Bobby blinked back and stared into Stone's painful looking eyes. "I know."

The pain turned to confusion as he asked, "Then why were you following me?"

Bobby didn't want to tell him that he was also suspected in the murder of the FBI Agent, so he took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He might as well; his chest was already killing him. "Okay, I lied. I did think you had something to do with her disappearance."

Stone's eyes narrowed slightly. It took him all of ten seconds to distrust him. "Now that's a lie. And, this is a smoke-free train," he said as he leaned forward on his knees. "Give me one."

And it took twenty seconds for his arrogance to return. Bobby tapped out another cigarette, lit it, and then handed it to him.

Stone was quiet for a long time as they passed through more tunnels and by more stations. "It was the knife, wasn't it?"

That was said with a great conviction that hung in the air between them. Bobby could have grabbed onto it and went after the man who was puffing on the smoke like it was a lifeline. Instead, he remained quiet and waited.

"Christ," Stone breathed out and stabbed the cigarette out on the floor of the train car. "How was I supposed to know that some wacko serial was using the same kind?"

It was a soft question, spoken to his self but meant for Bobby to answer. He didn't answer it. He stared at the smoke in his own hand that he has barely tasted as he inquired, "Do you still have it?"

If Stone did, he didn't tell him. The detective threw out his own question instead. "Is it just the SVU guys, or is the FBI in on it too?"

Bobby didn't understand Stone's calmness; it could have been a front, or the man could have really not cared. "I can't answer that. I'm not going to answer that. All I can tell you is no matter what, no matter who's going after you, you're not going to win."

That got a nod out of the placid detective. It was like he was having a normal, easy conversation with a guy about baseball. Stone hardly moved, hardly raised his voice, he hardly blinked. Maybe he was scared to death.

"I can beat it the rap, just without losing my job. I can always get another job."

Bobby blinked back at that. The guy really didn't care. "It's possible that you'll lose everything."

"No," Stone finally shifted his eyes away from the space he was staring at somewhere behind his left ear. "It's more possible that you're the one that's going to lose everything. Doesn't matter if you are cleared...that wacko is still gonna beat you."

The smart-ass had to take one last jab at him, didn't he? The train slid to a stop and Stone got up and come over next to where he was sitting. He held on to the pole by the door as he waited for it to open. "How can you not care?"

"I do," Stone told him without any emotion another than slight irritation. "I just can't afford to let it eat me up."

Bobby watched him cross the platform and start up the stairs before he could even get up and off the train. One look toward the signs and he groaned at where they ended up. It was Broadway and Fulton Street station, in the Wall Street district. It was the last stop before the train crossed into Brooklyn.

His knee was killing him as he slowly and easily made his way across the platform and up the many flights of stairs. By the time he stepped foot on the sidewalk, he was covered in sweat. Taking out his always available handkerchief, he wiped the sweat from his brows and neck as he pulled out his cell phone.

After one ring, Stabler's voice yelled into his ear, "Where the hell are you?"

He leaned against the wall of a building as he told him, "A block from the World Trade Center site, on Broadway and Fulton." Bobby heard an inaudible curse and felt a slight smile pull at the corners of his tight lips.

"I'll be there in soon. Give me fifteen minutes."

Bobby was looking around the block and spotted an all too welcoming neon sign across the street and down half a block. "Okay, I'll be at O'Riley's down the street." He flipped his cell shut and headed toward the pub.

* * *

_O'Riley Pub_

_Wall Street District, Manhattan_

At that hour, the bar was barely moving inside which he was more than fine with. Bobby limped his way passed the empty and occupied bar stools to the very end, on the corner. From there he could see the door and watch for Stabler. He noticed a few taxi drivers conversing in a booth along the back wall, a few nurses from the hospital a few blocks over were at a table, and the guys at the bar were on dressed in street clothes. The place was dead.

During the working hours of nine-to-five, the place was always packed with business men and women having a drink with clients or getting lunch. Then after working hours until about ten or so, it was with those same business men and women having a drink before going home or trying to get someone to go home with them. Tonight, everyone in there just wanted and needed a drink.

The bartender came up to him and asked, "What'd ya have?"

Bobby dug into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a twenty. "Give me a, um, shot of whiskey, doesn't matter which, and a glass of beer…whateve's on tap's fine."

In seconds, the shot glass was in front of him and he downed it with an urgency of a man in pain. That worked better than any pain meds a doctor could prescribe. His muscles were beginning to relax and his eyes were growing heavy. He knew that it was coming; he could feel his body crashing and giving up on him the moment he sat down across from a hurt Detective Stone.

Burying his head in his hands, he closed his eyes and willed himself to stay awake, at least until Stabler showed. His head was still sweating but this time it was from the stuffiness in the pub. Pulling at his shirt collar, he tried to no avail to cool himself off and make his neck a lot less hot. It wasn't working. His flannel shirt's top two buttons were undone and the t-shirt underneath was constricting all the air from reaching his body.

Noticing the glass in from of him filled and foaming at the top, he took a drink and stared at the dark marble bar top. A couple more desperate gulps of the beer, and he laid his head on his arm that was outstretched on that marble top and closed his eyes.

* * *

To his word, he walked in fifteen minutes later and he couldn't believe what he saw. There was Detective Goren with his eyes closed and head resting on his arm on top of the bar. He was dead asleep.

Elliot shook his head and cursed under his breath.

"He only had one shot, and he barely drank half the beer."

Looking over at the bartender as he stopped next to the big Major Case detective passed out on the bar. "How'd he look when he came in here?"

"Like shit, except half awake and limping."

Elliot looked back down at the sleeping man. He was limping? "Which side was he favoring?"

"The, uh...left I think."

That was the knee Goren had to have surgery on. "Damn," he cursed again and shook his head. "Looks like I'm gonna have to carry him."

"Need help?"

Elliot grabbed the arm he was lying on and pulled it out from under him. The guy didn't even move. He wrapped that arm around his neck as he put his left arm across his back and under his left shoulder. "Nah, I got him."

At least, he hoped he had him. Once he slid him off the stool and all his heavy weight was on him, Elliot groaned. God, he was bigger than he looked.

"Sure you don't need help?"

Elliot dug into his pants pocket on tossed his keys to the bartender. "Open my doors for me and help me put him in."

The bartender followed him out as he dragged Goren out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. He was panting and straining to keep from dropping the big guy once they reached the SUV. "Hold him while I get in the other side; I think it'll be easier to pull him in from inside."

The bartender took hold of Goren and nearly fell over as Elliot rounded the SUV and got in the back of the SUV. He grabbed the detective under his shoulders and heaved him into the backseats as the bartender watched.

"Anything else I can do?"

Elliot was gasping for air with the big detective laying half on him as he stared at the guy. "I got it." Looking down at him, he shook his head. He couldn't believe he was going through all of this, and for Robert Goren at that.

A couple of minutes later he was pulling away from the pub and heading home to Queens. He could have easily dropped Goren off at home on the way, but he didn't feel like making anymore stops. Besides, once he heaved the big guy out of the SUV and into his house, he would be too tired and worn out to do much else. The morning was slowly approaching and in a few hours it would be daylight again.

Crossing over the bridge into Brooklyn and then cutting up to Queens, Elliot hoped he was able to get enough sleep before having to go back into work.

* * *

_Elliot Stabler's House_

_Glen Oaks, Queens_

He felt trapped. His whole body was unmovable and felt like it weighed a ton. The heavy darkness that had clouded his mind was lifting as a dull ache invaded his awareness. Trying to move, he felt a soft cushion against his face and under him. Blinking his eyes slowly open, having to really think about it to do it, he saw a dark shade of green in front of his eyes.

Confusion filled his tired thoughts that were swirling around in his head as he looked around. He wasn't at home, and this wasn't his couch that he was stuffed against and into. His right arm was buried down in the back of the couch in the place reserved for fallen change and the television remote. Pulling it out, the arm was dead until he rubbed at the muscles then in was in tingling pain as needles ripped through his entire arm.

There were too many questions and not enough answers to satisfy him as he rolled onto his back and then to his left side and sat up on the edge of the couch. Looking around and still rubbing his arm, he saw framed pictures all around him on the tables, walls, and on the mantle above the fireplace.

He had to admit, Stabler had a beautiful family.

Satisfying one of his questions, he got up and ventured around the house. Finding the kitchen, he headed straight for the coffee maker that was brewing. Grabbing a coffee cup from the strainer, he didn't wait for it to be done before he took and pot and quickly filled the cup. Some coffee drips splashed onto the hot plate and sizzled before he replaced the pot and took a small sip.

In the refrigerator there was cream and he added a decent amount to the coffee before he relaxed into a chair at the table and drank the cup as quickly as the heat would allow him. It was a nice kitchen, and very clean and quiet. Didn't Stabler have a family?

Bobby looked around and saw no evidence of that family being in that house recently. He wondered about that for a brief couple of minutes before his mind switched gears. It landed on a person and the information he knew about that person.

The name had been on the list Stabler had given him, and even then he wondered about it. Maybe not as much as he had with Stone's name, but he still would think about the man just the same.

He needed a computer. Getting up, he searched the house and came to a room on the first floor that must have been the family computer room. Slipping inside, he turned the computer on and as he waited for it to boot, grabbed a notepad and pencil that was on the desk.

Accessing his NYPD account, he typed in the name 'Anderson, Clifford' and waited. It didn't take long before the detective's file came up. Bobby looked up at the screen and his heart stopped. It was the eyes. Cliff's eyes had always sparked recognition with him since the very first day he met him. He didn't know why, never making the connection, until now. They were the eyes of the killer boy he had been witness to thirty years ago.

A shiver went down his spine as he stared at the screen and asked a silent question; the same silent question he had asked himself all those years ago: "why?"

As he read through the file, all the unanswered questions were clicking into place. Little pieces of the bigger puzzle were finally starting to come together. Cliff was a rookie with the 4-0 which was in the lowest point of the Bronx by the Harlem River. When Cliff transferred to Homicide for Narcotics, it was to the 3-5. That department patrolled the northern most neighborhoods of Manhattan, and it was bordered by both the Hudson and Harlem Rivers. That was where the Washington Heights neighborhood was where they had found Stella Cole.

He had the knife, he knew the neighborhoods and rivers, he had grown up in the Bronx and he still lived there even now. Most importantly, he had a positive identification of him.

Those damn eyes that still haunted his dreams.

Not wanting to wake Stabler, he wrote him a quick note and told him about the information he found on the computer and to call him later. Then he had another cup of coffee before leaving the house.

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

It was early and he knew that hardly anyone would be in the squad room. The captain wouldn't even be in yet. Bobby didn't have to show the guard at the gate his ID; they've known each other for over four years so the Officer Allison waved him on through. He looked up at the big building as he approached the doors and hoped he was right in thinking no one would be up on the eleventh floor. His head and hand were in enough pain already that he didn't want to have to deal with some colleague of his saying something to him. In the state he was in, he knew he would use his fist to answer any questions instead of his words.

Passing through the lobby, he hurried to the elevators and spotted one about to close going up. Sticking his hand in, he stopped the doors and casually slipped through the opening doors. A woman detective with Missing Persons was the only person on the elevator and he smiled at her like he always did when they crossed paths before pushing the button for his floor.

At eight, the doors opened and she got off, but not without her usual slight wave and shy smile. Bobby knew that she liked him and he was all too grateful for the fact that she never acted on it. Still, the normalcy of that one act made his stomach turn and with the eleventh floor approaching fast, his stomach knotted as his throat tightened. He hadn't been back to the squad room since the night Alex was taken.

Going down the hall, he caught sight of both of their empty desks and he nearly stopped moving as his breath caught. His long strides involuntarily slowed before he even crossed through the doors. Seeing their empty adjoined desks sent his knot in his stomach up to his heart and it twisted and pulled at him until he couldn't do anything except stare at her desk and feel nothing but that ache.

A noise down the hall startled him. Bobby jerked his head as he stiffened and prepared for the worst. The janitor rounded the corner from the interrogation rooms with a mop bucket and cart. He let his breath out and shook his head. Getting back on the task he came there to do, he searched around his desk until he found the right form he needed. There had to a form for everything in the NYPD, even to turn in your own weapon.

Signing his name on the right lines and dating it for yesterday, Bobby pulled his gun out from pressing against his back and locked it in his gun locker. Taking the form, he put it on Deakins desk and as quickly as he came into the squad room he left it. This time, he went by the elevators and took the stairwell up two more floors.

The locker room was empty. He heard no talking and felt no steam from the showers. The beds that were set up for them in the room to bunk-out on if they stayed at work too long were all empty. Bobby pulled open his locker and eyed the suit hanging in it. He didn't feel like wearing a suit unless he it was with his shield clipped to it. Pulling out the gym bag at the floor, he opened it and looked at the contents. A pair of blue jeans, black NYPD t-shirt, black buttoned up long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of socks, boxers, and his sneakers. Perfect.

It didn't take him long to shower or change but by the time he got done it was going on seven. He heard voices around the corner from his locker as he tossed the gym bag back to the floor with the clothes in it that he had worn yesterday. Quickly snapping the lock back on the door, he didn't bother to wait around to see who the people were as he hurried to the elevators and took it down to the lobby.

Once out of the building, he passed through the now busy security gate and headed across the plaza and toward the subway.

* * *

_Blake Stone's Townhouse_

Olivia checked her cell as she entered the house along with several uniformed officers. Elliot had something else he had to do so she would be alone in the search of the detective's house. Just great.

She sighed heavily and handed the search warrant to Stone who was standing in his kitchen with everything on but his tie which was hanging loosely around his neck. "Detective Blake Stone, we're here to search your home."

Stone didn't look phased and he shouldn't. With the run in he had with Bobby Goren earlier that morning, she was surprised the guy stuck around at all. "Whatever you're looking for, I don't have it."

Olivia just gave him a look and left the kitchen. The FBI Agents had followed her there or they were psychic seeing how no one told them they would be getting the search warrant that morning.

Agent Parsons didn't even give her an 'hello' as he pushed up her and went right up to Stone. "Blake Stone, you're to come with us for questioning involving the murder of Agent Collins."

Olivia had to admit that Stone's name fit him, the detective barely flinched and his face remained as hard as a rock as he tossed the warrant down, tied his tie, and then grabbed his coat. "So I guess this means you're laying off Goren?"

"No."

Olivia crossed her arms and stared hard Agent Parsons. "What'd you mean no? The only reason you guys were invited to the party was for the fact that the knife used in our case matched the one in yours. Now, you have a suspect," she said as she waved at Stone. "And it's not Detective Goren. So, the serial case is no longer a priority to you."

"Accomplice, Detective Benson."

"Accomplice for what?" Olivia nearly yelled out the door as the Agents took Stone with them. At receiving nothing but silence, she turned and barked at a uniform standing behind her, "What're you standing around for? Start searching."

* * *

_Cliff Anderson's House_

_146 West 12__th__ Street_

_Greenwich Village, Manhattan_

He paced the sidewalk a block down from the brownstone Cliff lived in with a burning cigarette hanging loosely between his index and middle finger of his left hand and in his right he held his cell phone up to his ear. Jeff Foster was guy he knew with the county property trustee's office and he was talking very loudly in his ear.

"What's the address?"

"1-4-6 West 12th Street, in the village."

"All right, hang on just a moment Bobby and I'll have the information for you."

"Okay." He was placed on hold as he leaned against over a newspaper stand with the front page of the 'New York Ledger' staring up at him.

Today, he wasn't on the front page; instead, there was a picture of the New York Yankees. They had beat Boston last night 10 to 7 to win the first game of the American League Championship Series.

Jeff's voice came back on the line as he told him, "It looks like Mr. Anderson bought the townhouse just two years ago. It's all four floors plus the basement apartment off the main sidewalk."

"Who owned it before?"

"That would be…um…Ah, Arthur Lennox."

"Have anything on Mr. Lennox you can tell me?"

"Age fifty-two, bought a house in Westchester County. That's all I know on my end."

Bobby breathed heavily into the phone as he spotted a familiar looking truck coming down the street. "Okay, thanks Jeff." Flipping the phone shut, he took one last drag off the cigarette before putting it out on the side of the newspaper stand before tossing it into the trash bin on the corner.

He smiled for the first time that day as he opened the passenger door and got in. "What'd you think?"

Stabler eased the truck up a couple of spaces before killing the engine. He eyed the brownstone before eyeing him. "I think you're out of your mind, but…I must be too since I agree with you. I looked him up myself and I've got to admit, Cliff looks good for it." He studied his face closely as he told him, "Benson said the FBI guys took Stone with them to their office. They said he's your accomplice."

Bobby frowned as that information rattled his thoughts. What was the FBI's problem with him anyway? He couldn't afford to let them get to him now, not with Alex still missing. "Did she find the knife?"

Stabler shook his head. "He must have gotten rid of it."

Bobby saw the dark look that crossed Stabler's features. "It's not your fault. If he was smart, he tossed it before you rattled his cage."

Stabler was silent as they both watched the house from across the street and down maybe twenty feet. "What's your plan?"

He shifted on the leather seat as he gathered his straying thoughts. "I'm going to go in there and talk to him."

"Then what?" Stabler asked as the looked over at him with his curiously stern blue eyes.

Bobby was caught off guard by that look and was reminded about how good of a cop Stabler was. Just that one look could get a guy to think twice about lying to him. "Then, I'm going to come out, get in back in the truck and then wait for him to come out. You're going to pick him up for questioning and take him back to your department."

"And in the meantime, what're you going to do?"

Bobby didn't answer that; he couldn't without putting Stabler in a bad spot. Later on, if he was caught, the SVU detective could plead immunity.

"Christ," Stabler said under his breath as he shook it. After a moment of tense silence, he said, "What if refuses to go with me?"

Bobby shifted his own hard eyes to him as he said, "Make sure he doesn't refuse." He opened the door quickly and got out.

It was a short walk to the front door of the brownstone but the wind was getting cold and bitter, biting his skin as he crossed the street and went up to the front door. There was a button for a bell so he pushed it first before knocking. He could hear chimes like church bells echoing through the house and then footsteps coming up to the door.

A lock clicked and then the door swung open and he was staring into the eyes of a man he hadn't seen in nearly nine years. If Cliff showed any emotion at all it was still disbelief because nothing changed on the man's face.

Bobby acted confused and surprised as he stepped back away from the door, looked at the number and then looked back at Cliff. "Uh…Do you live here?" he asked and knowing he did and had been for two years.

Cliff didn't even fake pleasantries as he nodded. The detective was dressed in white painters pants with various colored paint stains dotting them, a old white shirt that was also stained with dry paint, and a Yankees cap on his dirty blond hair. The guy needed a shave as badly as he did as he rubbed at his jaw. "Don't I know you?" he asked.

The voice was as cold as the air assaulting his skin and there was a slight accent in the voice. He was sure it was Canadian with the subtle hint of French in the pronunciation of some words. Bobby smiled a little. "Narcotics, right?"

Cliff finally let a smile touch his solid features. "Right. What're you doing here?"

Bobby played it off with a little laugh as he shook his head and rubbed at it like he was still confused on why that man had opened the door. "I knew the guy that lived here. Lennox…Art Lennox. How long have you been here? I haven't seen Arty in…uh, three years."

"I've been here two. Mr. Lennox sold it to me and moved up to Westchester County."

"You have his address," it was more of a stated fact than a question. He had a hunch that if Cliff knew the guys name and where he lived, he might have the address just in case some mail came to that house for Mr. Lennox.

"I might still have it." Cliff invited him in with a wave of his hand and Bobby was quickly in the house and having the door shut behind him.

The brownstone was empty except for one paint bucket, paint brushes, and rollers gathered in the middle of the room. Dry cloth covered the few pieces of furniture as well as the floors around the walls. Three of the four walls were painted an off white while the fourth was still a metallic grey.

There was no where to sit and no where to stand unless he was going to help the guy finishing painting that room. Bobby wondered around the bottom floor, looking into all the rooms that had been painted or not yet painted. The kitchen was in the very back and it was the only room untouched. There were empty paint buckets by the back door and dirty dishes in the sink. The table was covered in newspapers and on them were a cup of old coffee, fast food containers, and an overflowing ash tray.

Cliff came into the kitchen and smiled warmly at him like they had been friends for years. "Here," he handed it to him before moving across the floor. "Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?"

Bobby wondered at the sudden change in Cliff. He had been icy cold and stoic at the door, and now he was friendly and showing emotion. The affect was all wrong though. The nice in his voice was off and it wasn't genuine. He preferred the cold to the fakeness of the smile Cliff was giving him. "Uh, yeah, thanks. Black, please."

As Cliff turned to hand him the cup, Bobby slipped his hand in his pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes but fumbled getting them out and out fell his switchblade onto the floor. He muttered a sharp curse as he bent down to pick the knife up.

Cliff's reaction had been telling. When he had reached into this pocket, the man nearly froze as his eyes widened slightly and there was obvious relief when he saw the pack and not a gun. And he was now watching him, or rather watching the knife as he tossed it on the table as he pulled out a lighter.

"Habit."

Cliff blinked and shifted his eyes to his. "What?"

"The knife," he pointed to it after he lit the cigarette, put the lighter away, and then took the cup as he picked up the switchblade off the table. Bobby pressed the release button and watched the blade pop out before closing it. "It's a habit to carry it, ya know, since being in Narcotics. It comes in handy, even now."

Cliff didn't respond to that, just nodded a little as he picked the cup of old coffee off the table and dumped it out before refilling it with the hot new stuff in the pot.

"You still have one?"

Cliff turned to him and leaned back against the counter as he sipped on the cup. "I never did carry one as a Narc."

"No? Huh, I thought everyone did."

"I didn't do much undercover work. I mostly sat in the vans and did surveillance." Cliff never took his eyes off him as the room grew quiet. Suddenly, he asked, "Why are you looking for Lennox now after three years?"

Bobby stuffed the knife back in his pocket as he took a long drink of the coffee. The coffee had a different taste than what he was used to but it was good. "You read the papers?"

Cliff glanced at the kitchen table and nodded.

"Then you know that I'm in…that, things are bad right now, with my partner missing. Art, he, uh, owes me a few favors I need to collect on."

Cliff didn't respond to that either; he just stared at him until he was satisfied with what he was seeing. He gave a small twist of his lips that Bobby could have mistaken for a smile if the venom in his eyes hadn't made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I hope he can help you out."

Bobby brought the cup up to his lips and drained it; after swallowing the warm coffee down his throat, he agreed, "Me too." He took a few satisfying drags off the smoke before it burned away to ashes and put it out in the ash tray that was beyond its limitations. "Thanks again."

He turned around and headed back the way he had come in. "You're good, with the painting, I mean."

"I was a painter before I was a cop."

"Yeah?" Bobby looked back at Cliff just in time to act like he didn't see the open paint bucket in front of him. "I should get your number for the next time I need my place--" his legs hit the bucket and he stumbled forward and was able to get over the bucket as it fell.

White paint spilled out all over the floor and over the white clothes and some splashed over the bottom of his pant legs and on Cliff's.

Cliff stared at the floor, his jaw tightening and working hard to keep from dropping.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, man," he apologized as his cheeks warmed and he stared at the floor before raising his scared, apologetic eyes to Cliff. "I-I, uh…didn't see it."

Cliff's jaw was so tense that Bobby thought he could hear his teeth grinding together. "It's okay," he lied. "I'll…I have to get more anyway. It's fine." He plastered a fake smile on again and showed him to the door.

"Hey, look, I'm really sorry," Bobby apologized again as the door was opened. He pulled out his wallet and asked, "How much do they cost?"

"Don't worry 'bout it," Cliff told him as he nearly pushed him out of the doorway and onto the steps.

"I can help you clean it up."

"No thanks," and with that the door was shut in his face.

Bobby stared at it to give enough time in case Cliff looked out the window at him to act stunned. Then he turned and walked down the steps. The truck wasn't in the same spot as he left it. It was down the street further and parked on the on the adjacent street.

Stabler watched him the entire way. "How'd it go?" he asked once he had the door closed.

Bobby looked over at him and smiled. "He should be coming out soon."

It was no more than ten minutes later when Cliff left the brownstone and started down the street in the opposite direction of them.

Bobby told Stabler "Good luck" before getting out again.

"Hey, Bobby?"

He stopped at the use of his first name. Turning back to Stabler, Bobby saw a real genuine smile and it made him smile just at seeing it.

"You too."

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

She had been hearing footsteps all day long going from on end of the ceiling to the other. The smell of paint and coffee would drift down through the vents. The paint smell stung her nose while the coffee made her mouth water and stomach turn at the same time. Her stomach was growling and twisting with acid pains. She had not been fed or given any water as the duct tape remained covering her mouth.

The rope bindings were getting worn down as it frayed where she had been rubbing them against the corner of wall. She kept trying to get her hands loose but they were still too tight around her wrists for her to pull them through.

A little while ago she had heard the front door open and low voices talking. She couldn't make out the voices but she had hope that it was someone who could help her. Maybe it was the police? The two footsteps became four as the other person walked around up above her and then the steps faded further into the house to where she couldn't hear.

She groaned and bit her bottom lip before trying to get the tape off. Using her tongue, she moistened the tape that she could feel when she parted her lips and tried to wet as much of it as she could. Sucking air in, she huffed and blew it against the tape to get the stickiness to dry so it would no longer stay on her lips.

The footsteps returned and new person in the house must have been taller and heavier than the guy who had her because the steps were louder and spaced further apart. Suddenly, something slammed against the ceiling, the floor up above, and she jumped at the sound. The voices continued as the steps got closer to the door and then the door was slammed shut. She knew it was because it rattled the window that was above her.

Breathing hard, she closed her eyes and felt her body shake. Someone had been there and they were now gone and unable to help her. If she could get the tape off then maybe if that person came back or if someone else showed up, she could yell.

There was a sound. She stilled and pressed herself against the wall. It sounded like a door opening. Those lighter footsteps stomped down what sounded like stairs and echoed through the walls. Her pulse quickened as she heard the locks clicking together and then the door opening.

A man walked in that she didn't recognize. He was tall but not as tall as Bobby and he was thin and wearing paint clothes. A Yankees ball cap was pulled down to shade his upper face and all she could make out was his mouth and chin. His face was narrow and his lips had a crocked look to them like his teeth weren't all that straight in his mouth. As he got closer, she could see a scar over his top lip on the right.

The man stopped in front of her and shook his head slowly. He never spoke as he drew a fist back and threw it toward her. She moved quickly to her left and rolled toward the man's legs. Her midsection collided with his ankles, making him stumble forward along with his momentum and he landed against the wall.

"God…damn, you bitch," he yelled.

She didn't make it far with her legs and hands still bound; he grabbed her by the back of her head and it only took one slam against the floor for her head to explode in hot white pain before darkness settled over her.

* * *

S_pecial Victims Unit_

Bobby strolled into the department thirty minutes after he received the call from Stabler. His neck was hurting from the ride over and his patience was slipping due to the search of Cliff's house that revealed nothing except for a can of coffee, bad porn, and L'Oreal body and hand lotion.

The main floor was mostly empty and he was glad as he ventured over to Stabler's desk. The detective was squeezing the life out of the blue stress ball that Alex had thrown at his head a week ago. He nodded to Benson as he came to a stop and leaned over the desks.

Stabler tossed the ball down as he asked, "How'd it go?"

Bobby shook his head.

Stabler nodded. "Okay," he said without explaining to Benson who was looking at them both with confused worry. "We had to let Cliff go. He confirmed everything: the purchase of the knife, knowing about Eames being missing, and having the membership to the gym. However, he swears on an alibi of being caught in traffic coming back from Jersey on the night she was taken. There's no proof of it though seeing how he paid all the tolls and gas with cash."

"What about a search warrant?"

"Our A.D.A. said she'll see what she can do and hopefully we'll have one tomorrow or the next day."

Bobby's hands clenched into fists. "Tomorrow or the next day? Are you fucking kidding me? Is she crazy?"

"No, Detective Goren, I'm not."

Bobby stood at the voice and turned around to be facing Casey Novak. He eyed the woman in front of him as he barely controlled the anger that was pushing up from underneath his usually calm demeanor. It wouldn't take much to push him over that edge. "We had less on Detective Stone and you got a warrant for him. We have a hell of a lot more on Anderson and you're choosing now to waste time."

"How'd you know it's him?"

"I can positively ID him, that's how I know."

Novak either saw the building anger and she chose to ignore it, or she didn't recognized the signs as she told him, "You can positively ID a man you saw one time when you were a child. Hardly."

Bobby stepped right up to her and stared down at her. "He has her. I know he does. And it has been three days. Three. We've only got two left and…and you're telling me it'll be tomorrow or the next day for a warrant. I'll go to a judge myself and get one."

The hard stubbornness he had seen in Novak was breaking as she nearly flinched at his close proximity to her and the tone of his voice. She took a step back but continued to eye him as she said, "Carver warned me about you."

"Not nearly enough," Bobby bitterly told her as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was pulling him back. His body stiffened as he glared over his right shoulder at Stabler who had his hand on him.

Stabler pulled him back a little more as he stepped up to his side and warned him, "You need to take a minute and get a hold of yourself."

Bobby shrugged the hand off his shoulder and threw a hard look at Novak before he stalked off over to the table against the wall and made himself a cup of coffee. His anger was getting to him and the edge he was riding crumbled. Before he realized what he was doing everything that was on the table besides the pots of coffee went flying against the wall and over the floor.

Realizing what he had done and where he was, he took in a few deep breaths as he left the room and pounded steps out of the building. Once outside he dug around in his pockets for a cigarette and lighter. His hands shook as he lit it before dropping the lighter back into his pocket.

* * *

Elliot had watched as Bobby cleared the table in anger before hurrying out of the department. He rubbed at his jaw as he stared over at Casey. "What're you doing? He said he could ID the guy. You have the same information about Detective Anderson as we do, and there's more than enough there for probable cause for a warrant."

"I'm not saying there isn't, Elliot. I've seen the file and I heard the interview. I was there."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The fact that the last cop were went after for this is innocent and is now being questioned by the FBI. It was hard enough going after one cop, and a Major Case detective at that, but to go after another one. You have no idea what it's like for me right now. I'm getting heat from every angle on this one."

"I'm sorry about that," Elliot told her as he stepped up to her, but not as close as Bobby had. "But Stone was still guilty."

"And what if Detective Anderson is innocent? I'll be made a fool of once and I'm not going to let it happen again because some egotistical detective thinks he can control the whole justice system."

Before anything else could be said, Captain Cragen opened the door to his office. "Knock it off," he ordered.

Elliot turned to Cragen with a jerk and the whole room silenced. He watched as his Captain came across the floor to them with wide eyes that held the command of an experienced cop.

Cragen stopped in front of him and then turned to Casey. "I just got off the phone with the FBI. It seems that Detective Stone confessed to the murder of their agent." He then looked at him. "Go find Detective Goren."

"Why?" Elliot asked and fearing the answer.

"He's due back at One Police Plaza. Stone also denied having to do anything with the serial case and the FBI has to drop their investigation into it. As of now, Goren is cleared for duty and Captain Deakins wants to talk to him."

Elliot didn't waste any time thanking his captain of saying anything else to Casey as he hurried out of the department in search of Bobby.

TBC pt2…


	13. Wednesday, October 13, 2004 pt2

A/N: Thanks everyone!

Enjoy!

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

Bobby was sitting on the steps of the 16th Precinct watching the people walk by him from both directions. His left leg was bouncing uncontrollably under his elbow as he took the cigarette from his mouth and blew out a lung full of smoke. This was bullshit. The A.D.A. had plenty of evidence against Cliff Anderson to go after him and she has to choose now to play the political circle.

"Stop looking so pissed off."

Bobby turned and saw Stabler approaching him with a tense smile on his face. The detective stepped off the last step to walk in front of him. Staring up at Stabler, he took a long pull of the smoke as he asked, "Am I in trouble?"

The tension in the smile faded as Stabler told him, "No. You've been cleared for duty."

He must have zoned out because he was obviously hearing things. Bobby frowned up at him in confusion. "I'm what?"

Stabler leaned down closer to him. "Get your ass up and get to One Police Plaza. Your shield and gun are waiting for you." At the still obvious confusion on his face, he added, "Stone confessed to the Agent's murder so the FBI believed him when he denied having anything to do with Eames's kidnapping."

"They had to drop their side of the investigation," Bobby finished the explanation for him. He got up and rubbed at the back of his head as he felt lighted from standing too quickly. "Once I'm reinstated, I won't be able to work the case anymore."

"Captain Deakins said that he wanted to talk to you; maybe he wants you to keep working it off hours. It's not like you're going to drop it anyway."

Bobby felt a surge of gratitude for the tough SVU detective. In a matter of days they had gone from hating each other to putting up with one another, and maybe something a little more was hanging their between as well. He was too tired and worried about Alex to dwell on it long though. He stomped on the abandoned cigarette as he held out a hand. "Thanks, Stabler, for…um…"

Stabler smiled wider as he shook his hand. "Don't worry 'bout it. And call me Elliot, everyone else does."

Bobby nodded with a slight smile as he dropped his hand. "Let me know what happens on your end. Hopefully Novak will come around and get that warrant today," he said as he started walking away, toward the subway.

"Will do. And, hey, Bobby?" He stopped walking and a little to the side as Elliot told him, "Come by here after work and I'll give you a ride home."

Bobby didn't think too much about that as he waved a 'thanks' and went back toward finding the nearest subway station.

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

The squad room was busy as usual as he left the elevator and headed toward his captain's office. Despite his anxiousness of getting out of there and back on track with finding Alex, he was slow at making his way across the floor. Even though he had slept a few hours at Elliot's house he was still running on empty fumes and felt like a tight spring ready to burst.

His hand rubbed over his jaw and the beard growth tickled his palm. He was in desperate need for a shave but spending his energy on the task was asking too much from him. All his energy should be focused on searching for Alex and nothing else. Glancing around, the detectives were watching him but trying to act like they weren't watching him. Déjà vu all over again except this time he wasn't caring what they were thinking. He was sick of worrying about it and about them. He was getting sick of a lot of things recently.

Deakins was perched behind his desk, phone in hand, and when he looked up at him he quickly uttered a 'goodbye' and hung up. "Bobby," he said with a concern and a sense of happiness to have him back. "Sit down."

Bobby was glad Deakins didn't comment on his appearance. He wasn't in the mood for mindless talk about how he was or how he was holding up. It was pretty obvious to anyone who cared enough to look that he wasn't doing good at all. "Detective Stabler told me I'm cleared for duty."

"You are," Deakins told him as he opened a drawer and tossed his shield to him. "You should have been cleared the day the FBI started poking their noses around." He was quiet for a moment as he waited for him to clip his ID on his shirt and put his shield on his belt. "The Chief isn't one bit happy. You being suspended for so long of a bogus charge just because the FBI thought they knew something. Eames being taken and still missing and now this murder charge on Stone. One of my guys guilty of murder…" he trialed off and shook his head in disbelief.

Bobby stared at the floor as he felt sympathy for the man in front of him. He knew better than to open his mouth, so he remained quiet and waited.

Deakins looked back at him from where he had been staring out into the squad room. "You know I can't put you on Eames's case, but I know you and you're not going to just walk away. I heard that you think it's another cop, a Detective from the 3-5."

Bobby nodded. "That's right, Captain."

"You know he's the guy."

It wasn't a question but Bobby had the need to voice his answer anyway. "I know it's him; I can identify him."

"Then don't back off him."

Bobby had the urge to smile so he did; it felt real and made him happy for the moment. "I won't."

"You're on desk for the rest of the week. I won't give you a case unless we get too far behind or if one comes along that's right up your alley of expertise."

Bobby smiled a little wider as he stood. "Thanks, Captain, but the only case I'm going to be handling and thinking about is the one involving my partner."

"Then find her quickly."

He would certainly try. Bobby left the office and eyed his desk as he approached it. There was no amount of desk work that could make him stay there. Once he retrieved his gun from his locker he went upstairs and changed into his suit and actually took the time to shave.

Leaving the locker room, he felt like a man on a mission. Without telling the Captain he was leaving and not expecting him to tell him not too, he left the building and hailed a cab.

* * *

_One Hogan Plaza_

Ron carver glared at him from over his desk as he leaned forward placing his arms on top of it as he asked in soft tenor of disbelief, "You want me to do what exactly?"

Bobby shifted in his seat and asked, "I want you to have a talk with A.D.A. Casey Novak."

"On what basis would I have to speck to her, Detective?"

Bobby tilted his head to the left as he gradually asked, "Uh, to proceed with getting a search warrant."

"On this Detective Anderson you told me about," Carver clarified. "Detective, are you aware what you're asking me to do?"

"Call it a favor," Bobby nearly pleaded as he leaned forward on the desk. "It doesn't have to be official."

"And what if she refuses, have you thought of that? I'm very much aware of the situation going on with her and that case through the D.A.'s office. Why should I put my head out on the chopping block with her?"

"Because, Counselor, it's the right thing to do." Bobby had grown accustom to having Carver have his back on his cases, or most of them anyway, so to have him put up as resistance to help him with this was making him nerves. He wondered what exactly was going on behind the big iron Justice curtain. "Usually, Major Case can take over any case in the five boroughs if the department thought it was the best thing to do. However, with it being a one of ours that's missing and it being tied to the serial case, it's not that simple, Mr. Carver. Our hands…my hands, are tied and the D.A. in the case is getting cold feet unless she has support. And she needs it from inside the D.A.'s office."

Carver sat back as he thought about that. He was usually a man that held no fear with these kinds of cases and fought for the truth and for justice no matter how unpopular or hard it might be. Bobby watched as his eyes landed on his again with a small smile pulling at the edges of his lips. "All right, Detective. I'll give her a call."

Bobby nearly deflated with the amount of air he pushed out of his lungs. It was like a weight had been lifted as he stood and shook Carver's hand. "Thank you, Counselor."

"I hope this helps to get your partner back. I do miss having you two around my office and putting me in a panic."

Bobby was missing his little spurring matches with Carver as well. He was missing a lot of things: Alex, his job, and living his life. Everything had been on hold since she was taken and he wondered briefly if Alex's life had done the same when he was gone. He didn't want to think about that for too long because as soon as he left the office, his cell vibrated in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he was surprised at who was calling him. It was John Eames.

* * *

_John & Emily Eames's House_

He had stopped by his apartment as he decided to drive his car instead of taking the trains all day. Plus, he needed to do something and the distraction of driving was helping him to think easier without being bombard with thoughts. If he was just sitting and doing nothing like he would be on a train or in a cab, he was left with too much time to dwell on thoughts and emotions that were trying to send him into that spiral of helplessness and agony.

Pulling his car up along side the curb, Bobby shut it off and sat for a moment. The street was full of cars and most was in front of or near Alex's parents' house. They family was still there or at least their cars were. This time, everyone in that house would be awake and asking questions or getting angry. He wasn't prepared for this. He had no idea how to handle the Eames clan without Alex next to him, and even then it was a battle.

Taking a few deep breaths, he got out of the comfort of his car and walked down the sidewalk to the house and up the walk to the stoop. Bobby stood facing the door as he chewed on his lower lip and knocked.

His was shifting around the small stoop, scuffing up his shoes when the door opened. Looking up, it wasn't John who greeted him but Richard.

"Hey, Bobby. Come in," Rich greeted as he opened the door wider.

Richard was looking as pitiful as he was. His eyes were drawn down with exhaustion and his tight lips that reminded him of Alex's when she was worried to death over him. It nearly shattered what was left of his control as he stepped into the house. "You're not working?"

Rich shook his head. "Took some time off. I tried but every time the damn phone rang or a call came in even though it was a fire I kept thinking about Alex and what if…"

Bobby nodded a little as he searched for something to say. There was nothing that he could say that seemed meaningful, so he didn't say anything. Taking in the house, he noticed a lot of things that he had missed when he had showed up in the middle of the night.

The upper half of the house had white walls with paintings and collections of family photos hanging over them while the lower half, separated by wood trimming, was made up of deep red bricks. In the big living room, there was a fireplace that was covered in framed photos of the family. A light was attached to the ceiling fan that was on and it was circulating the air around the room. There was a television in the corner but it looked like it was just recently placed in the room as it sat on a end table that was no longer beside the long couch that faced the fireplace. And a big comfy looking lazy-boy sat adjacent to the couch. Bobby headed for it.

"Dad said you stopped by last night."

"Where is he? He called and asked me, well, _told_ me to come over."

"He and Liz went to the corner store to pick up some things we were running out of."

Rich was looking like he wanted to say something but didn't know how, so Bobby leaned in closer to him. "It's okay, Rich. Go 'head and ask me," he told him.

That seemed to work as Rich rubbed at his lightly bearded chin. "We read the papers."

Bobby closed his eyes and groaned. He knew they did, but to be told and confronted with it was unnerving. There was no anger or resentment in Rich's eyes, so he knew that he wasn't about to get nailed by Alex's bigger and much older brother.

"The press can be harsh, huh?"

"You have no idea," Bobby mumbled a little as he sat down heavily in the lazy-boy recliner and leaned back. "I've been cleared. Got my shield back today, actually."

Rich sat across from him on the couch. "Is there anything you can tell us?"

Bobby eyed Alex's brother threw half-closed eyelids as he started to feel his energy dissolving. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he told him, "I wanna wait 'til John gets back."

"Okay, then, um…Want something to drink?"

Bobby wanted a strong drink preferably Scotch, but he was on duty. "Um, got any coffee made?"

"Think so, I'll be right back with a cup. How'd you like it?"

"Black, with lots of sugar," Bobby told him. It wasn't how he liked it at all. It was how Alex liked it.

The newly but old familiar nervous habit of pulling out a cigarette was making his hands twitch but he refrained from giving into the need. It smelled like a clean house and there was no hint of smoke of any kind in it and no discoloration of the white paint job on the walls from nicotine smoke. He had been in houses with that smokers smell and look; this wasn't one of them. If anyone smoked there they took it outside.

Rich was suddenly next to him and held a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. Bobby took it with a muttered, "Thanks," before taking a hesitant sip. The hot sweetness of the coffee nearly burned his tongue, but he would drink it without complaint.

"How've you been holding up?"

Bobby shifted his eyes off the cup and to Rich's hollow light brown eyes. The man needed about as much sleep as he did. "Um…I finally slept for a few hours this morning."

Rich smiled and nodded in agreement. "We haven't gotten much sleep either. I had to talk dad out of storming Major Case and the SVU department for answers."

"Captain Deakins hadn't talked to him?"

"No, he has and told him that it wasn't their case and to take it up with SVU. He called around to some pals of his and got mostly rumors and condolences. We don't know what to believe, definitely not the papers." He took a long drink of the cup in his hand before addressing him again, "He was just glad that it wasn't picked up by Missing Persons."

"Missing Persons wouldn't have taken up a cop case."

"That's what he thought but since the person missing was a Major Case detective and usually it's Major Case who takes those types of cop cases, he was afraid of it being bumped to them. You should've heard him go on and on 'bout the political bullshit of the NYPD."

"I can fathom a guess at what was said. It would probably match my own opinion," Bobby teased as he glanced over at Rich. The other man smiled slightly and took another big gulp from the cup.

"Yeah, my pops was a good cop but he wasn't always a by the book man; he thought his own way and did what he had to do," Rich said with a faint hint of bitterness and contempt in his voice.

Bobby watched him stared down into it and then get up, probably to re-fill it. As he sat there in the chair he was reminded of a case him and Alex worked on a few years ago. Some security guards at a school were killing families and stealing drug dealers money. Alex had told him about her dad and about how he was caught 'double-dipping'. John had to pay back a whole lot of money back to the city because he was trying to beat the system and working for it while at the same time drawing his retirement money. John was a good cop but sometimes good cops with a big family and children to take care of had to do what they had to do even if it was the wrong thing.

He was just about to get up and go out onto the stoop to have a smoke when he heard the locks on the door turn and in walked John and Liz. They were both carrying brown bags in their arms and plastic sacks by their hands.

Bobby immediately sat the cup down and went over to help. "Here, let me help." Liz looked up and saw him approaching and her eyes got wide for a moment before she let him take the bags full of groceries from her and John.

"I wasn't expecting you here so soon," John told him as they headed toward the kitchen in the back of the house.

Bobby let Liz go ahead of him as she hurried to either put the sacks down or to get away from him. "I was put on desk duty so I left. I'm not good with all the paperwork anyway and Deakins had, in a roundabout way, told me to forget it and get back to finding Alex. So," he let that go as he put the bags down on the kitchen island and looked around the room.

Rich was sitting at the table staring out the window in silence and Liz was putting the groceries away in the cupboard.

"Where's Emily?" Bobby realized that he hadn't asked about Alex's mom.

"She went with Angie to her house on Staten Island. Everyone else had to get back to work. They'll be calling here before long asking if I heard anything. Junior's been a work since she'd gone missing. He even sleeps at the department and then gets right back up and starts looking. He called earlier and said that they have finally been given a possible suspect to look for who's jumped ship."

Bobby stilled at that and eyed John. "Who?"

"That Detective Anderson."

Bobby pulled out his phone and immediately dialed Elliot's cell phone. "When did he call?"

"About an hour ago."

After the third ring Elliot answered, "Hey, I was about to call you."

"He's gone!" Bobby snarled into the phone. Everyone was looking at him in the kitchen and he realized that this was Alex's family and maybe he shouldn't be having that discussion in front of them. Then his anger got the best of him and he yelled into phone again, "Why wasn't there someone on the house!"

"There was. He left through the back alley while we were waiting on the search warrant. Novak had finally bit the bullet and squared off with a Judge to get it. Oh, and she had helped and figured you were the cause of it seeing how it was the Major Case's A.D.A. who went with her."

Bobby closed his eyes and rubbed at the stabbing pain that shot through them. "I'm on my way." He didn't give him time to respond as he closed the phone and looked at John. "I'll call; I promise," he told him before he left.

* * *

_Cliff Anderson's Brownstone_

Bobby pulled his car up behind the SVU and was out in a hurry. There were more than a handful of cop cars and vans from the crime lab were parked behind them. Luckily there was no press in sight that he could see as he flashed his shield to the officers on the scene and jogged up the steps.

The interior of the house was just as he remembered it. The stench of paint stung his nose as he spotted the paint bucket he had knocked over still laying on its side with the white paint splattered over the floor. The one grey wall was still untouched and the kitchen was a horrible mess. It was in there that he spotted a uniform officer he recognized.

Alex's brother Junior looked over at him and said something quickly to the other officer he was speaking with before coming over to him. "I heard you weren't on the case?"

"Were you the first to arrive?" Bobby asked instead of answering the question. He was glad that Junior didn't push it as he nodded.

"Yea; when the call came through I was four blocks away. We put an APB out on Anderson's truck."

"What kind is it?" he asked as he followed Junior through a door that had been padlocked and nailed shut. It was busted open and half of the door was lying on the floor. A staircase swirled down below him and he wondered where it went.

"A 2002 Chevy Silverado. Can't be too hard to find in this city."

"Yeah, but you know how it goes. Once you get a description of a vehicle you see the damn things everywhere."

"This one has a camper on it, so hopefully that'll narrow the search," Junior said as he eased a door open at the bottom of the flight of stairs. "This is the basement apartment."

Bobby came to a stop just inside the door and looked around. The place wasn't too big but in wasn't cramped neither. It had no furniture except for a round dining table in the middle of the floor with two chairs. There was a small kitchenette to his left with just the stove and sink. There was a counter leading from it going around the wall. To his left there was a door that lead to a bedroom then off the bedroom was a whole bath with both a tub and a separate shower stall.

He noticed that the table was bolted down to the floor and so were the chairs. Glancing over toward the far bare wall he noticed a dent in the plaster. Pulling out a pair of latex gloves he slipped one on as he approached the wall and studied it. "Has CSU been down here yet?"

"No, they're busy with the upstairs."

"Get them down here, now." Bobby didn't look to see if Junior did as he order, but he was sure the guy did as the room got quiet and he heard fast and hard pounding footsteps going up the staircase.

The dent was made with a fist and it was pretty far off base of the wall. Cliff was coming at something, or someone and had missed. Alex wasn't going to let anything be easy for him, he thought with a grim smile pulling his lips. Looking around the floor, he spotted a small smear of blood on the floor near the table and frowned.

At hearing footsteps and voices getting louder, Bobby looked up to see a couple of CSU's entered the apartment with Junior. "Check the wall for prints and go all the way to the floor," he told them. "And there's blood here."

A forensic tech got to work on the wall as the other one came over to collect the blood. Bobby gestured for him and Junior to head back up stairs.

"You thinking that the blood is Alex's?"

Bobby looked at him and felt his heart go out to the youngest of the Eames children. He was looking scared but he had controlled himself through this whole mess with the utmost professionalism. He told him honestly, "Yeah, I do. She's a fighter."

"You don't have to tell me; she's given me plenty of scars to never forget it."

Bobby walked into the kitchen and left Junior to do his job as he approached Elliot and Benson. "Been downstairs?"

"When we got here we did a once over of the whole house. I've been in the going through Anderson's study and bedroom and Liv's been on the phone and handling the perimeter."

Bobby turned to her with his unspoken question.

"No word yet on the Chevy," she told both him and Elliot. "And the alley came up empty except for tire marks. No cameras caught the action back there but there was a camera on 9th and it got a good look in the direction the truck had turned. It was going north and then disappeared out of sight. I've got guys checking every store, parking lot, and gas station for cameras. Maybe we can find out where he's headed."

Bobby nodded and asked Elliot, "Find any personal papers or information on him?"

"It's all been cleared out. All the stuff I've found was old newspapers and bills, some notebooks with little writing in them."

"Take me to them." Bobby followed Elliot out of the kitchen as he pulled out his cell. He left a message for his buddy Jeff with the property trustee's to give him a call back as he ascended the steps.

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

He tossed his keys on the kitchen table along with his binder before pulling out his gun and putting it on top of it. The air in the apartment was hot making it feel stuffy and smell stale. Opening the window in the kitchen he let the cool night air in as he went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold beer.

They had spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening hours going over Cliff's house with a fine-toothed comb and all they got was what evidence was in the basement apartment. The rest was worthless junk.

It had been Alex's blood on the floor and her prints were on the wall along with Cliff's from where he pushed off it when he had tried to hit her. Imagining what had been done to her was threatening to cripple him. What was really making him angry was the fact that he had been there. He was there, above her in that house and talking to Cliff while she was trapped down there hoping and praying for help.

Then he had come back when Cliff was gone and he could have found her and gotten her out then but he hadn't known she was there. He never saw the door that was blocked off in the very back of the house that was assessable to the back alley.

There were no feelings in him except hatred and anger as his hand gripped the bottle hard before throwing it. He watched as the bottle shattered against the wall before glass rained over the floor. White foam mixed with the amber of the beer ran down his wall to pool on the floor next to the table as he felt his back hit the wall behind him. He watched the running liquid run down to the floor as he felt his body slid down with it.

His head banged on the wall behind as he felt the need to feel the pain of punishment for his failure. He was there and he could have saved her then. That knowing agony tore through him like a bullet ripping his insides apart before exploding against the wall. It was the worst feeling in the world to know that he so close yet failed to see it and failed to do his job.

He had failed her.

TBC…


	14. Thursday October 14, 2004

**A/N:** The reviews are much appreciated! Thanks everyone! Here's the next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

Her head felt like it had been beaten with a bat as her stomach churned with nausea. There was wetness on her face and it smelled of copper…It was blood. Her head was bleeding and she remembered the man coming into the basement apartment and banging her head against the floor. A soft groan was muffled as she turned on her side and blinked her heavy eyes open. She couldn't see anything but she felt something wrapped around her head. She was blindfolded. Why was she blindfolded? She had already seen the guy.

It didn't make sense until she felt her body lurch forward as the floor beneath her stopped moving. Then it started going again and she rolled back a little and felt her back press up against something hard. She was moving. Her abductor had knocked her out and thrown her into a vehicle. A van or truck, or the trunk of a car, and they were moving. If she was blindfolded then it meant that she could see out the windows.

She was still bound by rope so she moved her head hard against the floor of the vehicle and eased the blindfold down from her eyes as best she could. It was dark outside but she could see lights from light posts and some buildings. Were they still in the New York? She scooted back up against the hard surface and tried to push herself up into a sitting position. Looking around, she saw windows all around her. She was in the bed of a truck with a camper over it.

Slowly looking toward the front of the truck, she saw that the windows into the cab were closed and the windows were dark. She had no idea if the driver could see her or not but she doubted it. It was too dark outside, too dark in the bed, and the windows were too dark from the tint on them. Turning around, she watched out the window for any street signs or buildings that she might recognize. She didn't recognize anything.

The truck came to a stop at a light and she leaned down against the side of the truck just in case he could see her with the bright lights from the building and light pole shining in. She held her breath as she closed her eyes and waited. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure that he could hear it all the in the front. The truck started moving again and she let out a deep breath. She looked back out the window and saw that she had smeared blood over the side of the truck. She leaned her head against the side of the window and moved her head around it, smearing her blood over the window. Hopefully someone would see it when they pulled along side the truck.

The truck too a sudden right turn and her head banged against the window and she fell to floor as pain vibrated through her head. She felt the truck lurch to a stop and the sound of the door opening with a squeak and then closing. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to stay awake but the blow to her head was too much against her already concussed head.

She blacked out as the back of the truck opened.

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

He was stumbling into the wall in the hallway with no recollection of leaving the kitchen. His hand and shoulder ached with the impact against the plaster before he was falling to the wooden floor. The hall was tilting causing a queasy sickness to twist his stomach as he blinked his blurry burning eyes up at the ceiling. It was dark in the hall and he could barely make out the frame of the doorway to his study that was next to his head.

Was he coming out of there or going in? He wasn't sure anymore which direction he had been walking in before he stumbled and fell. There was no awareness if he had fallen forward or backward, it just hurt and his head was spinning along with his stomach.

Running a hand over his head he felt the wetness of his hair, face, and neck. He was sweating profusely and his shirt was clinging to his body with a cool heaviness. Ragging breathing hurt his chest as a distant foggy ringing sounded in his ears. He was either having a panic attack or he was losing his mind.

Grabbing the side of the doorframe, he was able to pull himself along the floor and against the wall for support as he pushed himself up on his knees and tried to take in a deep calming breath. The vein in his neck was pounding hard and fast against his fingers that he couldn't keep count of the beats. Staggering to his feet he leaned to his left and let his body carry him into the bathroom. He nearly fell against the sink but he caught himself from that painful impact and gripped the sides of the counter as his head rested against the mirror of the medicine cabinet.

There was nothing he could do to stop the attack except for ride it out and try to control his breathing and lower his heart rate. His eyes were clenched shut as he took in deep long breaths and held them before slowly breathing out. A shuddering ran through him and he heard the mirror shake as he trembled with the hot wave of adrenaline dying down through his body. Nails scrapped over the counter before digging into his palms as his hands fisted and clenched as he tried to relax against the attack of emotions that battered his mind and body.

A fisted hand unfurled as he turned on the cold water in the sink and cupped a handful of water. Leaning his head down, he splashed the water over his heated flushed face. It wasn't enough. He ducked his whole head under the faucet and let the cold water running over his head and down his neck. He shivered with the cold but his entire body was still rigid and burning like he was stuck on the 'L' train packed with passengers in the middle of August. The heat was suffocating and drying his mouth until it felt like sand.

He needed more. Only bothering to take of his shoes before he climbed into the tub, he turned the knob for the cold water before pulling the lever for the shower. As ice cold water rained down on him, he stripped the wet dress shirt and white t-shirt off and tossed them to the tile floor before leaning back against the tub and closing his tired worn eyes.

* * *

Elliot knocked again on the front door but louder. It was late, after one in the morning but he couldn't sleep and he knew that Bobby wasn't getting any sleep either. There were many things he could have done to ease his restless nerves like watch television or search the internet or call his wife. He should have been doing the last one but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was the one that left him and wanted a separation so why should he be the one to call her.

He was being a stubborn fool and he knew it, but what was a guy to do who knew how to be no other way?

The other reason that he came to Bobby's instead of calling his wife was because he felt like talking to the detective and making sure he was okay. After finding out that Eames was taken from that brownstone and that he had been there and could have done something about it if he had known, Bobby had changed and not in a good way. He completely shut down and withdrew into himself and quite frankly he was afraid for the guy.

With getting no answer he tried to doorknob and found it to be locked. Not wanting to give up yet, he looking around and noticed that there was a sidewalk leading around the side of the building. Going down the steps, he followed the sidewalk around to the back and sure enough he saw a door that was jarred open leading into the building.

Elliot slowly opened the door. There was a small space between that door and the back door to Bobby's apartment. The light was on and he looked through the top of the door to see that it was the kitchen. It appeared normal until he spotted shattered glass over the floor and the table had been cleared of its contents which were now scattered over the floor.

Trying that door he was surprised to find it unlocked. Bobby hadn't locked the door back. Even though he didn't know Bobby very well, he figured that the man didn't go around not locking his doors. Easing the door open and pulling out his gun, Elliot entered the apartment quietly. Shutting and locking the door behind him, he let his eyes wander around the quiet rooms and taking in any sign of trouble.

There seemed to be trouble in every room he came to. The kitchen was a mess with the books and files and a gun and keys scattered over the floor along with the broken glass and the smell of beer filled the room. When he went into the living room he spotted the coffee table flipped over and shoved against the far wall, more books and some magazines were littering the floor along with shattered wood and strings that he guessed used to be a guitar.

As he entered the hallway that was when he heard the sound of the shower going and he chose to wait to check the bathroom after he checked the other two rooms. Pushing the door to the bedroom open, he looked around briefly and wasn't surprised by the fact that the bed was in shambles and what had been the sheet on the bed was ripped into strips and laying on the floor.

Elliot looked down the hall as he eased along the wall and noticed a dent in the plaster next to the door that lead to the study. He had gone into that room when he had come over last time and explored the lower floor of the apartment. It was a nice study with everything perfect and in precise order. It had been the only room that had that aspect about it. The room had been kept perfect in the otherwise cluttered house. He didn't have to open the door as it was already open and when he looked in he knew that Bobby was in seriously bad shape.

The study was completely destroyed. Everything glass frame or case had been shattered against a wall, every book and memento or object was off the shelves and thrown around the room and into piles. The roll top desk's lid was down and it had been beaten in. The only things that had been untouched were the swords. Thank God.

There was no steam in the bathroom as he leaned his shoulder against the partly opened door. The door swung open and hit the wall as his eyes rested upon the closed shower curtain. Elliot spotted bloody smeared over the sink and the cold water knob but nothing to indicate that Bobby had tried to clean his wounds. Wet clothes were piled on the floor next to the tub but it was only the shirts. Gripping the side of the curtain, he slowly pulled it back and stared at the man lying in the tub with ice water spraying down on him.

Bobby was staring blankly at the wall as his body shivered. His skin was looking pale but his lips still held some color as they trembled.

"Bobby?"

He received no answer at all; not even a flinch or a shift of his eyes. Elliot secured his weapon before turning off the water. Bobby either didn't notice or he did and chose not to acknowledge it. Neither one of those were good. He waved a hand in front of his face but he still didn't get a reaction. The man was gone.

Elliot straightened and looked around the bathroom. He pulled the dark blue flannel robe with white and grey strips off the back of the door and grabbed a few towels. It took a while, but he finally out the wet dress pants off the guy and they were both thankful that he had on a dark pair of boxer shorts or else things could have gotten real embarrassing really fast.

Pulling Bobby against the side of the tub, Elliot toweled him off the best he could before sliding his arms into the robe. It was then that Bobby's head moved, turning toward him.

Bobby's eyes were dark and empty; through chattered teeth, he asked, "What're y'doin'?"

"What'd you think I'm doing? Come on, get up, you're freezing your ass off."

The eyes didn't change as he closed them and opened them back up before pushing up on the side of the tub.

When Bobby stumbled, Elliot caught him and held him steady. "Take it easy. Go slow."

There was nothing said after that as Bobby slowly stepped out of the tub and with help from Elliot, made his way out of the bathroom, down the hall, and to the bedroom. He let Bobby collapse on the bed and close his eyes as he went into the kitchen and searched around for the coffee. Once the coffee started brewing and dripping into the pot, he went back out into the bedroom.

Bobby was sitting on the edge of the bed and seemingly staring at nothing. Elliot could only imagine what the detective was going through. His whole world had been ripped apart in the worst possible way. Then after all the hard work and searching and energy and effort to find the person he loved, she was gone and they were back to square one. If Anderson stuck to the timeframe they only had one day left and they were no closer to getting Eames back then they were the first day she went missing.

The smell of the coffee shook him from his thoughts and he went back into the kitchen to fill them both a cup. Not knowing how Bobby liked his coffee, he kept it black and went to take it to him in the living room. As he turned, he spotted Bobby leaning against the side of the entryway to the kitchen.

Bobby still had the robe on but was now wearing a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a black shirt.

"Feeling better?"

Bobby shifted his eyes off the floor and to him. "I'm…warm."

Elliot gestured to the cup in his hand. "I made you a cup but I'm not sure how you like it." He watched as Bobby shuffled his way across the floor and took it from him.

Bobby took a sip and then leaned back against the counter in front of the sink without saying word.

The room grew to an eerie quiet as he looked around the floor and then at the round table in the corner. Elliot went over to it and sat down and waited as he sipped at his own cup of coffee.

* * *

Bobby felt the warmth of the coffee spread down his body and easing the bitter cold away. He sent felt his body shiver as it fought the remembrance of the ice water that had nearly froze him. He was in bad shape; he knew that and it was pretty obvious to anyone who looked at the damage he had done to his house.

At first, what he saw in his bedroom, living room, and kitchen had confused him. He hadn't remembered doing it. Then, like a hard hit to the head it all came back to him. The feelings of overwhelming hatred, anger, and the guilt of failing Alex when he had been so close; it had all consumed him until he was in a blind rage of fury. He had started in the kitchen and worked his way to his study. It was in there that the feelings took hold. All that perfection and all those awards and reminders of all the achievements in his life had meant nothing compared to what Alex had meant to him.

He was failure and that room was a lie and he was nothing. He was absolutely nothing now but a broken man with a worthless hunk of metal that was his detective shield.

Running a shaky hand over his jaw, Bobby looked over to the table and saw Elliot sitting there watching him.

Elliot looked like he had something to say and he sat down his cup before he said it. "Do you always conduct your investigations this way?"

That clearly sarcastic question caught him by surprise. Bobby stared hard at the detective before telling him, "Go'ta hell."

Elliot chuckled as he brought the cup back up to his lips for a drink.

He couldn't help it as he smiled slightly while rubbing at his eyes and head. "Why're you here?" he asked again but now with a clearer mind.

It wasn't better or any less troubled, it was just a little clearer to where he could understand the words and react almost humanly. He might be able to even carry on a conversation.

Elliot sat the cup down on the table again and fingered it as he shrugged. "I couldn't sleep and figured neither could you. I wanted to talk to someone and I figured so did you."

Bobby didn't think about it too long as his thoughts were jammed up, vague, and jumbled in was hard to grasp on to one yet alone think about new ones. "Why me? Why not your wife?" When Elliot's eyes sorrowed and he looked away from him, he knew that his suspicion was right. Something was going on with him and his wife. "Where are they, your family?"

Elliot was silent as he rubbed at his own head forcefully. "They're at my wife's parents; we separated."

"Sorry."

Elliot shook his head. "It's hard on her, being a cop's wife. How come you never married? Afraid?"

Bobby stared down at the counter as he bit his bottom lip. "I'm a child of divorced parents." He gave Elliot a soft smile as he looked over at him. "So, it's not so much as I'm afraid of being, um, committed. It's more…I'm afraid of thinking I found the right woman who I could be with and love forever only for her to…to, leave. I, I couldn't handle it." He felt like laughing at the absurdity of that so he did. "Not that I'm having any luck not being married. Alex is still missing, and it's my fault."

Elliot was watching him with deeply distressed blue eyes. "It's not your fault."

"Do you think if you keep saying it enough that I'm gonna believe it?"

Elliot took a big swallow of the coffee, draining it, before getting up and walking over to him. "We're going to need something a lot stronger to drink if you're gonna take that kind of attitude with me, Bobby. I came here to make sure you were all right. You aren't. I found you shivering your ass off in your bathroom dazed out of your fucking mind. So show some gratitude."

Bobby tilted his head as he stared hard at the man before him. "For a Catholic you sure do have a dirty mouth. That why you can't sleep at night? Thinking about a divorce making you curse your faith; does that make you feel guilty?"

"Fuck you." Elliot slammed the cup down beside him on the counter and turned away.

Bobby watched as he went to the fridge and took out a bottle of beer before stalking off to the living room. He stared down into his half drunken cup of lukewarm coffee and tossed it into the sink. Opening the cabinet next to the ovens, he pulled down the bottle of Scotch and followed after Elliot. "You still believe in God after all the horrible things you've seen?"

Elliot looked over his shoulder at him. He was sitting in his recliner so Bobby headed for the couch. "Of course I do. It would make my job and life a thousand times more unbearable if I thought that there was nothing better than this." He had that suspicious glint in his eyes as he narrowed them. "You don't believe."

Bobby tossed the unopened bottle onto the couch as he moved passed it to grab the coffee table. He turned it over and sat it back in place in front of the couch as he told Elliot, "Used to," he told him. "I was raised Catholic."

"What happened?"

"My life," he said bitterly as he sat down on the couch and picked up the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and took a decent size sip of the Scotch. It was warming him up faster and better than the cup of coffee. "Instead of it hardening my resolve, it demolished it." He eyed the bottle with a deep longing that shook him to the core.

If he had any sense he wouldn't drink so much, but now wasn't the time to think about reasonable things like that. He took another drink and offered it to Elliot.

Elliot waved it away. "Maybe later." He took a sip of the beer and leaned back in the recliner before looking around the room. "You really did a number on your house."

"I-I, uh…I got angry," he simply told him as he glanced around the room.

"This is more than just anger. Wanna talk about it?"

"No," Bobby curtly told him as he took another drink of the Scotch. "If I talk about anything more it'll be about the case, about how are we going to find Alex?"

"We're working on it. Right now, there are A/V techs watching countless hours of video tape taken from cameras all down 9th and every adjacent street. We got guys tracking Anderson's cell phone and his credit cards, bank card, and any other thing we can think of. An APB is out on him and his vehicle. This is the hard part, the waiting."

Bobby glared over at Elliot as he asked, "How come you aren't watching those video tapes?"

"I was. I have been all damn night. At midnight the captain ordered me home or to the 'crib' to get some sleep. Liv had gone home earlier and slept so she took over my spot when I left. And Fin and Munch and been pounding pavement with us all day searching for those tapes." Elliot took a longer drink before telling him, "I've been doing my fair share and I was worried about you for most of it."

That had him staring at Elliot with a new founded curiosity. Bobby bit his bottom lip as his eyes narrowed on the SVU detective who was somehow making his presence more known and with it a comfort and familiarity that confused him. "Why are you so worried 'bout me?"

"Why shouldn't I be? Look at you."

Bobby's jaw tightened at the jabbing comeback. He was no longer in the mood for this and he was no longer in the mood to have the company of Elliot Stabler. "Stop worrying and get out."

"You treat all your friends this way?"

Bobby didn't say anything to that. Now Elliot was thinking of himself as his friend. When did that happen? Probably the moment he started calling him Bobby instead of Goren. Or when he had asked him to call him Elliot instead of Stabler. Or both? It didn't matter anyway, friend or not, Bobby still wanted him to leave.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

Elliot shook his head.

Bobby nodded a little as he got up and left the room. He went to his bedroom and closed the door. His bed was a mess but he wasn't going to sleep in it. The idea of sleeping in it without Alex next to him had been what spurred him to rip the sheet to shreds. He searched to the pack of cigarettes he had on him in his jacket pocket and found them along with his lighter.

Going over to the window, he pushed it open to let the cool air into the room. He put his back to the wall beside the window and lit a cigarette before sitting down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest.

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

His hand ran along the stubble of hair on his chin and jaw as he tapped a pen on top of his desk as his leg bounced under it. So far, Thursday had been quiet. The drive to work had been quiet, the city seemed quieter as no new cases came in, and the squad room was quieter as the cops all did their work at their desks while they occasionally looked his way.

Bobby downed the coffee in the cup and tossed it toward the trashcan by the doors. The cup missed and went bouncing over the tile floor until it hit the wall; it spun around before stopping. He eyed the cup lying on the floor but he didn't get up to get it until a cop walked by and looked down at it with a frown. Pushing himself out of his chair, he walked over and picked up the paper cup before throwing it hard into the bin. When he turned back toward his desk, he caught the looks of the men and women in the room.

They were all looking at him as if they were trying to figure out why he was even there. Why was he there? All he was doing was pushing papers around and signing his name mindlessly at the bottom of them while his mind was going over everything he knew about the serial case. Checking the time, it was only a quarter after ten in the morning.

He grabbed his jacket as he decided to get an early lunch. As he pressed the button for the elevator he wasn't sure when he would be back. Leaning against the back of the elevator, he closed his eyes against the onset of exhaustion that was pushing down on his shoulders. He couldn't sleep last night and the alcohol had done nothing for him except make him irritable and a little rough around the edges. His patience had all but dissolved ever since Alex went missing and he again felt her absence.

The way he was acting now was the way he had acted before his partnership with her. His co-workers were getting more annoyed with him; he could control his patience for so long before he did something stupid like tell off his commanding officer. He was smoking again, and maybe even drinking a little too much, and he wasn't getting any sleep. To make it all worse, it was all because of that psychopath.

He kept replaying the conversation he had with Cliff in his head and he could even hear the man's voice in his ear, the Bronx influence as well as the slight French Canadian undertone...

Bobby opened his eyes and stared passively at the doors as they slid open but he didn't move. He had found L'Occitane's Verbena lotion in the brownstone. The M.E. had found, of all things, rooster meat in the in the stomach contents along with garlic, mushrooms, and bacon...

The doors on the elevator had re-closed and started moving up. He pressed the button for the lobby again as he pulled out his cell and left a voicemail on Elliot's phone telling him where he was going to be and if he had time to meet him there.

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

Elliot watched the video montage that the A/V techs put together of what they had from the cameras they collected. They had the truck from a while going north on 9th and then east on 35th. It wasn't long before the truck disappeared and they were staring at the distant spot on the screen where the truck had been. Anderson could have continued east into Brooklyn, turned back north toward upper Manhattan of the Bronx, he could've turned back south, or he could have suddenly decided to go west to Jersey.

They had nothing but speculation. The bastard could have been anywhere by now. He shook his head at the footage and left the room.

Anderson was a smart cop and he knew he'd be found if he used his credit cards, so of course he didn't. He also turned off his cell phone. There was no contact with his few family members or friends and he had not reported to work that day. The man was AWOL. He probably even changed vehicles or painted his truck a different color, or he could have put Eames in the truck drugged and took the camper off, changed license plates, and had a phony ID.

The man was a cop who was a serial killer. Elliot bet Detective Anderson had everything up his sleeve to get away just in case he had to go on the run. Sitting down at his desk, he put his head in his hands and rubbed at his temples. They were losing evidence and leads at an alarming rate and if they didn't catch a break soon there would be no getting Eames back alive.

Pulling out his cell phone, he saw that he had missed a call from Bobby but there was a voice message waiting for him. It was Bobby telling him to meet him at, of all places, the New York Public Library in Manhattan.

Elliot spotted Liv talking to Fin over at his desk. "Hey, Olivia?"

She turned to him and asked, "What's up?"

He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as he told her, "Goren wants me to meet up with him. Wanna go?"

"I was going to go with Fin and Munch and see if we can find some more footage where we lost the truck. We're supposed to be receiving photos of all the intersections that had cameras. Maybe our guy ran a red light."

"Hopefully. Okay, I'll call if we get anything."

"Same here; good luck."

* * *

_New York Public Library_

"What am I doing here?"

Bobby away from the newspaper article he was reading to Elliot's wondering eyes. "Canada." He pulled a sheet out of his binder and handed it to Elliot. "He's Canadian born. When he was five, his father Darius Clifford Anderson, who was American, died uh, at sea when the oil tanker he worked on caught fire. His mother Evelyn, a naive French woman, then brought Cliff here with her to live with Darius's father."

"Okay, and I'm sure that his explanation of the guy's family history is going to bring us around to why Canada?"

He yanked the sheet from Elliot's hand in annoyance as he pulled out a few more and handed it to him to look over. "Just listen. Anderson is obsessed with his, uh...French ancestry and probably his mother too, but that's..." he waved it off as his mind was wondering faster than his mouth could keep up. "Anyway, the M.E. found traces of the last meal that Stella Cole ate right? Rooster, garlic, mushrooms, and, um, bacon...It's a French dish called Coq au Vin. The lotion I-I found in his brownstone, it was, uh..." he tapped the paper Elliot was holding.

"L'Occitane's Verbena."

"Yeah, it's obviously a French lotion. The verbena is a small shrub with pale blue to purple flowers and serrated leaves. , and it's grown around the Mediterranean Sea. Verbena is also known as the "enchantment", "witch's" or "cure-all" herb, and it has an irresistible lemon-y fragrance. The-the, uh, the Romans attributed it to Venus because they believed it had the power to rekindle the passion of a dying love."

"Rekindle the passion of a dying love? I see no love in what he's doing to those women."

Bobby blinked up at him before looking back to the old newspaper article he had been reading. "You don't see it, but he does. And maybe the love he's trying to 'rekindle' isn't theirs. Take a look," he motioned to the article he was reading.

He got of the seat to let Elliot sit down. Bobby put all the papers back in his binder as Elliot sat quietly and read.

"His mother was a French whore."

Bobby glared at Elliot as they locked eyes.

Elliot raised his hands defensively saying, "That's what it said. She was pimping herself out of her own home. CPS took her son, Cliff, out of the home and into the custody of his grandfather. Then she was murdered by some john."

"It was the way she was murdered. The article said that she had been stabbed to death."

Elliot pulled out his cell. "I'll let Liv know; she can track down Evelyn Anderson's case file and see exactly how she had died and what was used."

"I asked a bubby of mine to look into any property owned by Darius, Evelyn, and Cliff in Canada. I think he's heading there."

"We've got roadblocks around set up at the border, Bobby."

Bobby nodded but said, "Doesn't mean he can't get in. He could have a boat."

"I'll alert Border Patrol and the Coast Guards while I'm at it." Elliot told Olivia what they had found out and to have Cragen inform Border Patrol and the Canadian Police just in case somehow they had already gotten over the border. After he hung up, he asked, "Do you think Cliff's still sticking to the timeline?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping that with us finding him out that we knocked him off his game plan. He now knows that I know it's him, and he knows my relationship with her because he was stalking her. He had to have seen me. If he keeps her longer, it'll be to keep torturing me and taunting me to find them in time to save her."

"Think that's what he's going to do? Or do you think he's going to get rid of her and then go underground?"

Bobby didn't want to think about the former possibility. Cliff could have every intention of killing and getting rid of Alex before he crosses into Canada. It would be the safest and the smartest thing to do, but Cliff had wanted this to be a game. There was no reason calling it in, leaving evidence at the scene, and dropping bodies in the 3-5's backyard if it wasn't all part of the game. "I think he's going to keep her and see how far he can drag me along for the ride."

* * *

_Bobby Goren's Apartment_

Bobby pulled his keys out of his pocket as he went to unlock his door when he heard a voice behind him. He turned and was surprised to see Alex's brother Richard and his wife and kids there. Melissa was clutching a couple of aluminum foil covered trays and bowels to her chest while Eric held two paper sacks to his. Heather was standing behind them and looking up at her father who stepped around the family and came up the steps.

"We called your work and they said you already left. It was getting to be too much at dad's house and I needed to get away from his explosive tangents," Rich half chuckled and smiled as he said that but the man was too stressed for it to show in his eyes.

"May we come in," Melissa finally said when Rich had grown quiet.

Bobby nodded softly as he pushed the door open and gestured for them to enter the house before him. Once they were all inside, he shut the door and locked it. As he turned to face the living room, he had forgotten that he had demolished his house in a fury of anger.

The family stood just inside the door and looked around in awe and disbelief. Rich turned to him as he told his wife and kids to go into the kitchen.

Bobby couldn't form any words as he looked around his living room in despair and embarrassment. He didn't have to explain anything as Rich placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

"Mel, she made you some food, figuring that you've been too busy trying to find Alex to eat. Looks like you've been too busy to clean too, huh?" he half joked because nothing could shake the worry from that man's voice or face.

"Uh, yeah, something like that," was all he could get out of his dry mouth.

"Come on, we'll help you clean this up. It's not any worse than Eric's room."

Bobby restricted the family to helping clean in the living room and kitchen. He cleaned the bedroom his self and was starting on the bathroom when Heather stepped in to help. She didn't move as she spotted the blood on the sink that he had yet to get completely off.

"Is that what happened to your hand?"

Bobby glanced up at the teen girl as he wiped down the sink with bleach. "I guess it's not meant to be thrown into walls and tables and glass."

She tried for a smirk that held resemblance to Alex's but it was too sad. "It's okay," she told him. "I feel like beating the shit out of the bastard myself. Until you find him, I guess the walls are gonna have to suffer."

Bobby had forgotten how much he liked Heather. He smiled as he straightened from where he was bending over the sink and tossed the blood stained rag into the trash. The bathroom was clean enough. "I hope your mother's cooking is good, 'cause I'm starving."

Heather smiled and followed him out. "She's the best, I think. Way better than Aunt Liz's cooking."

* * *

_Undisclosed Location_

It was sliding lower, over her knuckles and then, yes! Finally, she pulled her arms loose from the rope and started untying it from her legs as she kept her eyes on the shut door. She had woken what seemed like hours ago in a dark room that swayed causing her stomach to do flips.

When she had woken, there had been some light coming through the round window, casting light across the ceiling but it moved up and down along with the room. That was when she realized that the whole place was swaying up and down, back and forth. She had heard the humming of the motor and felt the rotation of rotors. There had been no question where she was. They were on a boat.

Now, there was no light at all coming through the window so it was hard to see what the knot looked like but her fingers finally got it undone. Once her legs were free, they grew stiff as she went to stand. Tight muscles that hadn't been worked and stretched in days were protesting against the movement but she pushed on and forward as she looked out the round window.

The sun was setting over a big body of dark water as the boat slowed and then turned. The man who took her was driving the boat so he wasn't down there paying any attention to her. She still was careful as she slowly opened the door and looked down the long narrow passageway that led to the room she was leaving. It opened up into a living area equipped with a kitchen, table, couch, and television. There was no phone or she couldn't find it as she quickly searched the area.

Finding the knife drawer, she took two, putting a small one down into her sock and shoe, and the other behind her back. If he found one or she lost one, she had the other. Slowly going up the stairs, she peered over the top of the hatch and saw him. He was standing at the wheel with his back to her.

Right away, she noticed his hair was different from the black she caught under the baseball cap he had worn before. It was now a sandy blond color and cut short. She looked away from him and searched the horizon. There was no land as far as she could see. Her first shot at getting away and they were nowhere close to being on solid ground. If she bailed, she would drown or worse before she even got to shore. Plus, once he found her gone he would come looking and a boat could move faster than she could swim.

She only had one choice. She had to kill him.

Gripping the knife hard, she ascended the rest of the steps, keeping her eyes on the man's back, and slowly stepped closer to him. The deck was slippery with water that had spilled over the sides and she had to steady herself a few times as she took the short seven steps toward him.

She got so close to him she could smell his cologne as she drew the knife back. The hard impact of the knife into his left shoulder blade rippled up his hand as the silent night shattered with his scream of pain. He whirled around on her and hit her with his left forearm across her head.

Her legs slipped out from under her and her back landed hard on the deck. He descended toward her and she kicked him in the knee and then into his right ankle, making his leg slide out from under him. The man hit the deck at her feet and grabbed at her ankles. She struggled against his tight hold as his nails clawed at her skin but her strength was nothing compared to his.

Against her struggling body and desperate grunts and groans she as she tried to fight him and get away, he overpowered her and held her by her arms to the wet deck of the boat. She saw his head move an instant before her head exploded in pain and white electricity flashed through her eyes as his head banged into hers.

Then everything went dark.

TBC…


	15. Friday, October 15, 2004

**A/N: **Okay, since I'm not at all familiar with Canada, I had to go with what I've read and seen photos of, so bare with me. Also, the name of the "city" I use in this chapter isn't real; I made a name up because I didn't want to use a real place.

Enjoy!

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

Bobby typed in the search bar the address that Jeff had left him on his voicemail to where Evelyn and Darius Anderson lived while in Canada. It was located in a place in Ontario called Chandler City. There was also a property site number that was found in the name of Evelyn Anderson and the co-owner of the property was Cliff. The location of the property was in a rural area northwest of Smiths Falls and it was located near the Tay River in the same town, Chandler City.

The words on the computer screen started to blur in front of him and he knew he was close to dropping. He pushed away from the desk and went into the break room for another cup of coffee. He had to refill the machine with water and fresh coffee grounds. As he waited, he leaned back against the wall and ran a tired hand over his eyes.

After Richard and his family left his house, he couldn't think of anything except the case and Alex. So that was why he was at the office at three in the morning researching everything he could about Cliff Anderson's family and their history in Canada instead of being on his couch at home getting some much needed sleep.

In his mind he could now see the vividly how Anderson stalked and captured and then tortured and murdered his victims. He understood the motive and in that he understood the emotions and the driving force that was pushing the man to do the horrible things he was doing and had done. Mixed in with all that there was also empathy, and that empathy was how he usually got the bad guy. That part of what he did as a profiler always unnerved him and it was unsettling. It was also a curse in the most terrible of cases, but now for him to actually feel an ounce of empathy for the man who took Alex away from him, it was sickening.

He smelled the air and opened his eyes to a pot half full with coffee. After he prepared a cup, he headed back toward his desk. His eyes locked onto Alex's desk and it pulled him to it. Fingering the top of it he sat the cup down where he usually sat hers at and pulled the chair out. Sitting in her seat, he leaned back and stared at the all too familiar ceiling. Her chair was more comfortable than his. Alex had taken the desk with the chair that had arms and cushioning when she first joined the department. His chair was the old hard metal thing that had been in the department since the fifties.

The chairs Anderson's basement apartment were bolted to the floor. Why would he do that? The techs had found evidence that the kitchen had been used down there as well. It was a fact that the women had been fed before their deaths. He prepared for them their last meal. Last meal, last rites…Darius and Evelyn were both Catholic.

Bobby grabbed the file folder off his desk that had the autopsy photos in them and flipped through them until he found the close-up of Stella's neck. The pattern of the object that had strangled her left round, ball impressions around her neck much like if she had been wearing a rosary.

He snatched the phone up and dialed a number he had recently locked into his memory and waited impatiently for the man to answer, if he was home.

"Hello?" a groggily harsh voice asked on the other line.

"Was there a bible in Anderson's house?"

The line was quiet for a moment before Elliot asked, "Bobby....Wha, what time is it?"

"It's almost four. Was there a bible in Anderson's house?" he asked again as he became more impatient.

"Um, I think…Yeah, there was."

"Was it checked into evidence?" When he didn't receive an answer, he asked again more forcefully, "Elliot, was it checked into evidence?"

"I'm trying to think!" Elliot yelled back. "Yes, it was. It's in your department's--"

Bobby hung up the phone and was out of the chair and headed toward the elevator in seconds. It took what felt like hours for the elevator to reach the floor that the evidence locker was located.

Pushing the door open, he eyed the young man behind the gated counter as he pulled out his ID and shield. "I need to see the evidence that was brought in from Detective Cliff Anderson's house, now."

The young officer didn't even ask for the case number or anything. He just nodded dumbly and went and got it for him. He signed the box out and flipped the lid. The bible rested near the bottom of the box in a plastic zip-locked evidence bag. Opening the book, he saw that it had belonged to Evelyn Anderson and it had the church she attended address in the left hand corner on the back of the cover.

"Thanks," he told the officer as he gave him the box back and headed back up to the eleventh floor.

Once at his desk, he typed the church address into the computer but it came up that it couldn't be found. He did a search on the church and still there wasn't anything to be found in the system on it. Groaning as he pulled out his cell phone, he left another voice message for Jeff; giving him the address of the church, he asked his friend for another favor in finding the location of it. He then turned off the computer and went to gather up all his files and papers when the phone started ringing.

Dread filled him as he stared in confusion at the phone. Tentatively picking it up, he answered, "Goren."

"Bobby, hey man, it's Zorenno from the 'Ledger'."

He rubbed at his head as he grimaced. Bobby wondered what the reporter could want as he said, "It's nearly four in the morning, Tom. How'd you know I was here?"

"It was a shot in the dark. You have a minute?"

"Depends on what you want."

"Just a comment. The word is that you and your partner have more going on than just a professional relationship."

Bobby stilled as his chest clenched as his right hand gripped the phone. He leaned slowly on top of Alex's desk as he asked, "Where'd you hear that? Who ever gave you that line is full of it."

"Doesn't matter, that's what's going to be printed in the papers."

"Like hell it is, Tom. Today's paper is already--"

"Exactly," Zorenno said, cutting him off. "It's out already. I want a comment for _tomorrow's_ paper."

Bobby couldn't get anything out of his constricted dry throat. He managed to a weak, "No comment" just before he slammed the phone down, hanging it up. He had gripped the phone so hard that when he let go after a long moment it ached as his knuckles turned from white to a deep red.

_It's out._ That was all he could think of as he buried his head in his hands. He felt the one saving grace he had left dissolve. The damage of this going around the department was going to be catastrophic and Alex was going to get the worst of it. There was a lot riding against her in this and the most damning was that she's senior partner.

He couldn't let it happen, not to her, but he couldn't stop the news. There was only one thing he could do to stop it and to save Alex's job when she returned to it. Bobby got up and headed to his captain's office. The form he needed was one that he never stored in his desk and Alex wouldn't have a copy of it either. Searching the folders on the table, he found the one he needed and took out a pen from his inside jacket pocket.

Staring at the line for his signature, he took a deep breath and only releasing it after his name was completely written. Going back to his desk, he took his badge out of his jacket pocket. He stopped behind his chair as he ran his thumb over the gold numbers. Opening the top desk drawer, he turned his hand over and dropped it in.

He gathered his files into his binder and tapped on the top of Alex's desk, not knowing why, and then went to the elevators. Instead of going down he went up to the locker room. Going to his locker, he pulled out the NYPD gym bag with the clothes he had thrown in them days ago, or what felt like weeks ago, and added his one suit that hung on the hook to it. He also tossed in the small black bag he had on the top shelf that held his extra toothbrush and other cleaning products.

On the top shelf, and in the very back, sat a gun. It was a Glock 20, 10mm auto pistol. It was the new police issue weapon but he never carried it because for one it was made for a right-handed shooter; for two, it was too heavy for his injured left hand. He had tried to give it back but his captain told him to keep it as a backup piece. He had thrown it in his locker and there it sat until now.

Lifting the gun off the shelf, he checked the magazine, it was a full clip, and then put it in the bag as well. After shutting the door, he went ahead and locked it back up before he left.

At that time of night half the city was closing down while the other half was just waking up. He was tittering on the edge of both as he slid his Mustang out of the parking garage and onto a fairly empty street. It was quiet until he hit midtown and the night came alive with lights, people, cars, and loud noises that caused him to roll up his window. Doing that act closed off all the cool air that had helped to relax and calm him. Now he was starting to feel hot and with that feeling he was getting anxious.

He pulled out a cigarette at the exact moment his cell phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. Pulling it out along with his lighter, he dropped the lighter to his lap as he frowned down at the phone. Why was Lewis calling him now?

"What?" he snapped into the phone.

Lewis was silent before he answered, "Bobby?"

His voice sounded tired, distant, and apologetic and Bobby immediately regretted snapping into the phone like that. "Sorry, man, I'm…I haven't been…" he took a deep breath and said again, "Sorry."

"It's okay. I know it's early but I knew, or thought, you wouldn't be sleeping anyway. When I try to call during the day, you don't answer so….So, how's it going? Wait, stupid question, huh?"

Bobby stopped at a light and put the phone in his right hand and quickly lit the cigarette he had loosely hanging from his mouth. He reluctantly rolled the window back down as he thought about how to answer his friend. This was exactly why he had yet to talk to him about it, or to anyone that wasn't on the case. The closet he came to talking to anyone about it was John Eames and he still wasn't sure how he thought about that. Elliot had tried to get him to directly talk about it but he couldn't. If it wasn't about the evidence, the leads, or the plan of how they were going to get her back then he didn't want to talk about it.

The light shown green and he hit the gas as he cleared his throat. Lewis had yet to say anything else into the phone, they were both listening to silence and their breathing and neither one of them could think of a thing to say.

"Want to come over?" Lewis finally asked after five blocks of nothing.

Bobby saw the sign for the exit to Long Island Expressway and passed it. "No, I can't…busy."

"Oh, okay." There was again silence for a long while before, "You'll find her, won't you?"

Bobby's hand gripped the phone as he continued to head north. "Yeah, I will." He hung up because he knew nothing else had to be said and he if there was he wasn't going to be the one to say it or listen to it.

* * *

Elliot showed the security guard at the gate his ID and shield before he was allowed pass. He never understood why One Police Plaza got the security gate and guards to keep people out but every other department in the state were left wide open to any nut-case who decided to walk into one. He figured it had to do with the fact that the building housed more than just the cops working in it but also the chiefs and commissioners.

As he went through the glass doors and headed toward the elevators, he wondered if Bobby would be up on the eleventh floor. Then he thought better; there wasn't a thing he could do at Major Case right then except maybe piss off the brass. Bobby would be out there trying to get a lead on finding Eames. He could be back at the library or on his way to SVU.

The ride down to the basement was short and the halls were empty and the only thing he could hear were his footsteps as he walked to the evidence locker and pushed the door open.

An older officer who looked as enthused as a bulldog glanced up from him over a newspaper. He folded it slowly as he straightened up from leaning over the counter. "May I help you?"

Elliot gave the officer the case number and property code for the box he wanted and waited. It didn't take long before the officer was back with the box.

"Sign for it on here," the officer handed him a clipboard that had been hanging on the wall.

Elliot picked up the pen that was held to the clipboard by a piece of string and looked at the sheet. He went to sign his name when he spotted a familiar name written just two lines above his. Looking at the time the box was checked out and then back in, he realized that Bobby had been there just minutes after he called him on the phone.

"There a problem?"

Shaking his head, he quickly signed his name. Taking the box to the table by the wall, he found the bible right on top of the pile of evidence. Flipping it open, he read the first pages over and then wrote down everything that written on it. He had no idea what Bobby needed the bible for, but he was going to find out.

* * *

_Special Victims Unit_

"What's the matter with you," Liv asked when he stalked into the department.

Elliot eyed her wearily as he got himself a cup of coffee. As he stirred sugar into the cup, he told her, "I got the weirdest phone call last night. Bobby Goren called asking if Anderson had a bible in his house."

"There was one."

He threw a look over his shoulder at her as he said, "I know that. I told him there was and I was in the middle of telling him where it was when he hung up on me."

"Just like that?"

Elliot sat down at his desk and took a drink. "Just like that."

Liv was silent as she thought that over before asking, "I wonder what he's got going inside that head of his."

Elliot shook his head. "I don't want to know, but hopefully whatever it is its one step closer to finding Eames." He pulled his small bound notebook out of his pocket and held it up. "I went to check out the bible this morning, and Bobby had already been there, right after he called me. I took down everything that was written in it by I'm assuming Evelyn Anderson since it belonged to her."

"Anything interesting?"

"No. There is a Canadian address for the church she attended but that's it. I'm thinking that maybe Bobby's right. We need to talk to the officials in Ontario about what's going on."

"I agree." Liv had that look in her eyes when she knew something that he didn't. He frowned deeply at that look and waited. "Early this morning call came in from a Sheriff's office in Sacket's Harbor, that's northwestern New York. They found Anderson's truck."

"Wait, they're still here?"

She rolled her eyes and told him, "Check your geography, El. The place is basically on Lake Ontario…He took a boat to Canada."

Elliot pulled out his phone and dialed Bobby's cell number. It rang five times before he answered.

"This better be important."

"It is," Elliot told him. "They found Anderson's truck in Sacket's Harbor. That's--"

"That's on Lake Ontario, I know. So, he dumped his truck there and took a boat across."

Elliot heard the wind blowing into the phone and sounds of cars going by. He looked nervously over at Liv as he asked, "Bobby where are you?" When he got no answer he more sternly said, "Bobby…"

"The bible I asked you about, it's still in evidence."

"I know; I saw your name on the sign-out log."

Bobby didn't say anything but he knew he was still on the line because of the noise and traffic from the interstate. "The, uh, the address, it's a long shot, but I can't…I…My instinct's telling me that this is it. We're too close for it not to be and I can't sit on my ass any longer waiting …"

The line suddenly went dead and Elliot hung up the phone. He closed his eyes as he went to stand. "Bobby's on his way to Canada."

They hurried to Cragen's office and knocked on the door before going right in. Elliot waited until he hung up the phone before telling him about what they had found and about Bobby.

Cragen didn't like that last bit of information. "Are you telling me that Goren went on a rogue mission to Canada? Does he have any idea what this could do to our connections with the Canadians?"

"Sir, I don't think he's thinking about anything other than getting his partner back at this moment; he's certainly not thinking about our international relations with the county."

Cragen stared at him long and hard before picking up the phone. "Guess I can finally tell Captain Deakins where his detective is. He's been trying to get a hold of him since seven this morning."

Elliot exchanged a look with Liv and sighed. He hoped Bobby knew what he was doing.

* * *

_Interstate 81/Highway 137_

_Border of New York State & Ontario, Canada_

At the checkpoint, Bobby had to pull off the main road and into a parking lot near the gate. He showed the guard his badge wallet that held his police ID and off-duty badge that he kept at all times and went into the guard station.

"I need to check a weapon," he told the officer behind a bulletproof glass.

The officer pushed the sliding metal tray out toward him. "What is your purpose for visiting Canada and how long will you be in the country?"

"Not long, a day, maybe two. I'm picking up a friend."

"You can get a temporary license to carry your weapon in the country."

Bobby shook his head, "I don't have the necessary paperwork; I didn't know I was coming here until today."

The officer stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Put it and your ID in the tray."

Bobby tossed his wallet into the tray and pulled off his belt holster that held the Glock and put it in. He had switch the guns when he had stopped in Syracuse

The officer checked the weapon then locked it in a small gun locker that was against the wall. Taking out a receipt book, he looked from his wallet to the receipt and wrote in his information and the number locker that the gun was in then pushed that to him. "Sign your name."

Bobby signed it and hoped that the officer didn't noticed that the gun he had checked was for a right handed shooter, and he was left handed. After he signed, he pushed the tray back to the officer who looked it over, ripped off the top sheet and put that in the tray along with the key to the locker and his wallet.

"Thank you, and you can pick up your gun when you return; all you have to do is present the key and ID. You keep the receipt."

Bobby nodded his understanding as the pocketed all the items in the tray and left the station. Getting back in his car, he tossed the locker key in his ashtray before pulling out. The guard waved him through and within seconds, he was in Canada.

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

His hand held the phone up to his chin well after he had gotten off the line with Captain Cragen. Detective Stabler had been in contact with Goren and found out that his missing detective was on his way to Canada. Jimmy Deakins tapped the phone against his chin again and realized he was still holding it. Hanging it up, he picked up the letter and form Goren had left on his desk in his right hand and the issue of 'The New York Ledger'. The second story in the Ledger, which was on the third page, was that of Goren and Eames's personal relationship.

Tossing the papers to his desk, he got up and left his office. The squad room was at its most active with hardly any room to walk without some detective or officer barely bumping into him. The only two desks that held no activity were those of Goren and Eames. Jimmy looked over both desks and saw the signs that Goren had been there recently, late last night and early that morning in fact.

Not knowing why, he pulled open the top drawer of Goren's desk and saw what he dreaded would be in there; the gold shield sat on top of a stack of papers. He picked it up and shook his head.

"Christ, Bobby, what're you thinking?" he asked himself as he shut the drawer and went back to his office.

* * *

_Freeway 401, Ontario_

The sun glared off the asphalt of the highway and burned at his tired red eyes. Leaning against the hood of his car, he waited for Jeff to get back on the line with him. He had been on hold for nearly five minutes.

"Okay," Jeff said once he got back on the phone. "I'm back. I'm sorry, Bobby, but I just can't find where the church is located."

"Why not? It once existed, didn't it?"

"Yes, but it's not that simple. Look, I had to call in a favor to a friend to get you the information on the Anderson address. I tried him again but even he couldn't find it. Our systems only go so far back. My guess is that that church has been sold off and demolished by the county thirty years ago 'cause that's how far back our records go. Not everything was put into the system."

"It has to be on record somewhere."

"Yeah, maybe, but we can't get to it. If you want to find it, my suggestion is to go to the Hall of fucking Records in Toronto and search through stacks and stacks of old property deeds. That's the only way you're going to find it."

Bobby rubbed at his head and closed his eyes. "That's a waste of too much time I don't have."

"Then there's nothing I can do for you. I'm sorry."

He jerked a tight nod as he told him, "Yeah, okay…bye."

Bobby walked around the hood to the driver's door and got in. Pulling back onto the freeway, he continued heading west. He needed to pull over and rest and that was probably the most logical thing that had going through his head.

Roughly ten miles later he pulled off the exit and entered Gananoque. The city was in the Thousand Island region and it was right on the bank of the St. Lawrence River. The Thousand Island International Bridge back to New York State was close by as was the historic Old Fort Henry, the Charity Casino, and the Thousand Island Boat Cruises with a stopover at the Boldt Castle. If he had been there for vacation he probably would have loved it. Right then, none of that remotely appealed to him.

He pulled off the road at a gas station that was only a short way from a motel. It was a little cool with the temperature being in the mid-sixties but the afternoon sun was beating down on him making him sweat. Cold air from the air-conditioning engulfed him as soon as he entered the station. As he passed the door, he grabbed a road map out of the rack by the door before he headed to the cashier. Once he had filled his gas tank, he drove a short way over to the motel and got a room. When he was told that only the non-smoking rooms were available, he inwardly cringed as he signed in and accepted the key.

He parked his car in front of his room and grabbed his gym bag out of the backseat. It was a small room with a single queen size bed, a desk and chair, television on the bureau, a round table was by the counter with the coffee machine, and there was a mini-fridge which he was told was a full bar. He tossed the bag on the bed and sat down at the table.

Pulling the folded map open, he searched the towns around the town he was in now until he found the name he was looking for, Chandler City. Why it was named that he had no idea because it was, according to the population count, it was considered a village. The place was definitely not a city. It would be an hour and a half drive to get there, but first he needed sleep.

Bobby rubbed at his burning blurry eyes and went to the bathroom, grabbing his gym bag as he went. He showered, shaved, and then lay down on the bed staring at the ceiling as he tried to push the anxiousness away. If he was on the right track and did confront Anderson in Chandler City, he was going to have to been at his best and most conscious.

His cell phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. It was Deakins calling again. All the energy he had moments ago evaporated as he felt his eyelids grow heavier. It moments, he was oblivious to the world.

* * *

_Border of New York State & Ontario, Canada_

A helicopter had flown them to a sheriff's station near the border and they had to take a sheriff's car escort to the checkpoint. Elliot got out as soon as they reached the guard station and headed inside. A young officer greeted him as he pulled out the picture of Bobby. "Have you seen this man?"

"The officer stared at the photo and nodded. "He was here about two hours ago. He had a badge, I thought he was police."

Elliot nodded. "He is." That confused the officer but he didn't try to explain; instead, he asked, "He came in here why, exactly?"

"To check his weapon," the officer pulled out a folder and flipped through it. "He checked a Glock 20."

Elliot frowned and asked, "A Glock, you sure?"

"Yes."

Taking a long shot, he asked, "Can you remember if it was for a left or right handed shooter?"

The officer was confused again as he thought back. "I think…it was for the right."

Elliot nodded his thanks and met Liv outside by the car. "We got a problem. Bobby checked a gun, but it wasn't his. Or, at least, it wasn't the gun he uses. It was right handed Glock."

"He's pushing his luck on this one, El. What'd you want to do?"

"Let's hold off on that," he told her. "He might not ever pull his piece anyway and I don't want to bring any unnecessary trouble on him. He's in enough shit as is."

Liv agreed. "Okay; I'll check in with Cragen and just tell him Bobby was here and is already across the border. You contacted the officials in Chandler City yet?"

"Yeah, they'll keep an eye out for him and wait for us to arrive. Let's hope we beat Bobby there and keep him from ruining the rest of what career he has left." Elliot turned to the Deputy Sheriff who had given them the ride out to the checkpoint. "Get on the phone and tell the helicopter pilot to get ready. Once we get back to the station, we leaving."

* * *

_Chandler City, Ontario_

He had only gotten a rough two hours of sleep before he had enough of staring at the walls. It had taken a little longer than the hour and a half to get to Chandler City, but he had found the last known address for Evelyn and Darius Anderson after twenty minutes of driving in circles. The house was off the main road at the end of a gravel road that he had passed up three times before realized it was even there. It had been nearly covered with shrubs and pine trees shaded the sun from lighting the narrow road that was barely big enough to fit two cars.

The house was a one story cottage that had seen better days fifty years ago. He parked his mustang in the grass near the front porch because there was no driveway. Through the open front door, he could see lights on and know that someone was home. Bobby reached under the front seat and gripped the metal he felt and pulled out his berretta 9mm. Tucking the gun in his waistband, he was reassured at feeling the pressure of the weapon against the small of his back as he got out of the car and shut the door.

As he approached the house, a woman opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?"

Bobby smiled at the woman as he held up his badge wallet and told her, "I'm Bobby Goren, a police officer from New York. And I'm lost, apparently. Think you can help me?"

The woman looked unconvinced but she nodded anyway and stepped out onto the small porch. "Who're you looking for?"

Bobby pocketed his wallet as he stepped up the four steps to the porch. "Uh, I'm not really looking for a person but a place. May I ask how long you've lived here?" She didn't any older than he was so he wasn't sure she would know the location of the church he was looking for or not.

"Going on twenty-one years. I'm not sure if I can help if you're not looking for a person."

Bobby nodded a little as he looked toward the door to the house.

A little boy came up to the door and briefly looked at him before saying, "Mom, sissy's crying again."

The woman excused herself and disappeared into the house; moments later, she reappeared with a baby girl in her arms. "Like I said, I'm not sure if I can help--"

"You might. I'm looking for a church; it's old, and it's not in commission anymore."

"The only old church I know of is the one near the Tay River."

Bobby stilled and eyed the woman. "The Tay River? You sure?"

The woman nodded. "Only reason I know is that it's a nice old catholic church and me and my husband got married there."

Bobby thanked the woman and got back in his car. He pulled out the map and found where he had marked the property site that was in Evelyn Anderson's name. Somewhere in the middle of the dense woodland he would find the church, and hopefully Alex as well.

Getting back out of the car, he showed the map to the woman and asked, "Is it here?"

She nodded. "Yeah, you take that road and there will be a cutoff, a dirty road, not gravel, and you follow that to a clearing where the church is. Not more than fifty meters is the river."

* * *

The clearing the woman had told him about was up ahead but he slowed and pulled off the dirt road well before it. Turning around, he backed his car into an opening between trees and pines that barely fitted his car and then cut the engine. Looking the out the back passenger window and through the bark and leaves of the trees, he had a good view of the opening into the clearing where the church would be.

He opened his door and softly shut it so not to make any noise. Bobby stood waiting a couple of minutes but didn't hear any noises that weren't a part of nature. Taking out a cigarette, he lit it and leaned on the hood of his car as he stared into the clearing as he thought of what to do.

He couldn't just go walking up to the church if Anderson was there. If he was spotted, Cliff wouldn't hesitate to shoot him or go ahead and shoot Alex. The trees gave him so help with the shadows and blocking of the sun light around the perimeter of the clearing. Bobby had to make sure first that they were even there.

Taking a long drag off the cigarette, he out it out on the ground and headed into the woods. The hardest part of the plan was not to step on a fallen stick making too much noise as he eased his way closer toward the church. He spotted the building through the branches on a pine tree. What had once been a maroon painted wooden church was now a watershed grey color with the paint and wood chipping off around the entire whole of it.

The cross that had once been on top of the building was gone but the platform for it was still intact. All the stained glass windows were gone leaving the window entire completely open or the glass that were in them were busted open. Why the building hadn't been demolished he had no clue. It looked ready to fall in on itself.

What was out of place, and that he spotted when he walked further along toward the back on the church, was a red pickup truck. It looked to be an '94 Chevy but it was in good condition but more importantly, it wasn't supposed to be there. There was a house small one story house built behind the church that looked just as old as the church itself. It must have been where the Father had lived so he wouldn't be to far from the church if someone came around seeking God in the middle of the night.

He kept to the edge of the tree line as he rounded to the back of the church and house. Behind him through the trees, about fifty meters away according to the woman he had talked to, the Tay River could be heard. It sounded like it a waterfall was near but not a very big one, probably about only twenty feet high if that. Suddenly, the door to the house opened and Bobby hid behind a oak tree as he watched Cliff Anderson walk out and opened the passenger door to the truck.

Bobby's hand instantly took his gun out from behind his back as he kept his eye on Anderson. Alex was either in the house or the church, but the only person he was after just then was the man he was watching pull a black duffel bag and a couple of white plastic bags out of the truck. Once Anderson returned to the house and shut the door, he started toward it.

* * *

Elliot had a feeling that they were now only shortly behind Bobby, but they were still behind him. The gravel on the road swirled up in a white fog of dust as they sped down the road toward the address that Bobby had left on his phone in a short text not more than forty minutes ago. He had not known about the address before Bobby had told him in the text that the house had once belonged to Evelyn and Darius Anderson.

Coming upon the small cottage, he looked over at Liv who was leaning forward in the backseat of the SUV that was driven by the Smiths Falls Police Officer, Jay Gordon. Chandler City was so small that it didn't have its own police.

They stopped in front of the cottage and they got out along with Gordon and made their way up to the door. A woman dressed in jeans and a cotton flannel shirt answered and came out onto the porch.

"Mrs. Larkins," Gordon asked; she nodded and he continued, "Has anyone been here recently? A cop from New York?"

She nodded as she said, "Yeah, a, uh…Goren, Bobby Goren, came by. He was lost."

Elliot stepped up to her as he asked, "Did he say where he was going?"

"He wanted to know about a old church; I told him there was one by the Tay River. You know it?" she asked Gordon.

Gordon nodded and turned to him. "I know exactly where that's at. Come on."

* * *

The man who had her had to be a cocky son-of-a-bitch. If he wasn't then he would have never handcuffed her. Alex had kicked off her shoes and then stretched her arms up to her feet; bending her knee, she got one foot through the opening between her cuffed arms and then the other in the matter of seconds. Grabbing her shoes, she put them back on and got up off the floor.

The room the man had her in now had a single door and no windows. Leaning against the door, she listened by heard no noise. Her head was aching and her limbs felt numb and light but she had forced herself to move through the lax feeling that was threatening to put her to sleep as she slowly opened the door. It opened into a narrow hallway that went in three directions. There was a door just in front of her and to her left and right the hallway looked like it turned at the end of each.

She took heavy small steps and tried the door; it opened into a large room and sunlight blinded her already painful eyes. Six rows of empty, broken pews were facing her. As she stepped on the wood beneath her feet, it creaked and she heard the wood split.

* * *

Bobby neared the house and dropped to the ground on the side of the house just next to the front door as he heard Anderson moving around. The front door opened and he watched as Cliff headed to the church. Using the back entrance, he went inside. After a moment, he got up and ran to the door to the church and carefully opened it and followed him in.

The hallway was dark but he could see enough to go to his right or else he would run into a wall. Through the narrow hall, he could hear footsteps in front of him and then the sound of a door opening and closing. He came to a left turn and eased around the corner and saw the door that Anderson must have went through. Slowly opening the door, he saw that it lead to another hallway that T'ed. At the corner, he peered around the wall and saw that Anderson was down that hall staring at something.

Anderson then shut a door and looked around, down the hall and then behind him. He watched as he opened a door and then took off in a run as he yelled. Bobby took off in a dead run after him and plowed through the door and into the front of the church. The noise startled Anderson as he turned in surprise and then in shock as he came face-to-face with his berretta.

* * *

She heard the man scream behind her and Alex took off running. The clearing to the road was ahead of her and she didn't look back to see if the man was gaining on her until she was on the dirt road. Glancing back, she didn't see the man at all and no longer heard him. As she turned her head back around to keep running, something hidden in the trees caught her eyes. It was a car.

With her hands still handcuffed and her legs fighting to keep moving without collapsing, she stumbled over to the car and pulled open the front door that was unlocked. Alex instantly froze as she looked the car over. It looked like Bobby's car. She opened the glove compartment and pulled out the registration. The name she saw shocked her but filled her with surprised and an overwhelming sense of joy. It was Bobby. He had found her.

She looked around the car and didn't see him anywhere and she still didn't hear or see the man coming after her. Alex put the registration back and got out of the car.

* * *

Bobby stared into the eyes of Cliff Anderson as he walked up to him and placed the barrow of the gun directly into the man's forehead. The moment he saw Anderson he felt a spark of the rage that he had been feeling since Alex went missing flare in him and it was burning away at all the control he had left.

This man had taken away the one woman in his life that he had dared to love and he planned on murdering and raping her. All his empathy was gone as he gritted out of his clenched jaw, "Down, on your knees."

The usual stoic cool eyes of Anderson were now blazing with what Bobby could only guess was fear and disbelief as he hit his knees on the wooden floor. Pushing the gun harder into the man's forehead, he said, "Let's have it." Anderson became confused until he clarified, "Your last words, asshole."

"Bobby!"

He barely took his eyes away from Anderson's as he glanced up to see Alex at the door to the church. She looked bad. Her hair was a mess and dry blood was smeared over her forehead and down the left side of her face. There was something wrong with the way she was moving; it was forced and her legs were unsteady like the rest of her body. Bobby knew instantly that she had been drugged, but Alex had always been a fighter and she was pushing toward the effects and had gotten away. That made him smile as he glared back down at the beast of a man in front of him. His vision was unfocused slightly as he only saw red and felt pure hate.

Clicking the safety off, he grabbed a hold of Anderson's shirt and dug the gun in harder until he felt the man shake from the pain.

"Bobby, what're you doing?"

He didn't look up at Alex that time as he answered, "Not now, Alex."

"Yes, now," she demanded. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Bobby saw the fear flash in Anderson eyes and he wanted to laugh at it. The murdering psychopath was actually afraid of being murdered himself. He felt her at his side and then her hand on his left hand that held the gun.

"Let go of the gun, Bobby. You don't want to do this."

"You have no idea what I want to do or what I've been through because of his piece of shit."

"Bobby, listen to me…hear my voice, give me the gun."

"No," he said so coldly that it even sent a shiver down his own spine. Bobby knew what he intended to do when he came there. And he wasn't leaving until he did it.

"This isn't you."

"Listen to your, bitch, Goren."

"Shut up!" Bobby yelled into the man's face.

Anderson didn't, he kept talking, "If you really wanted to do it, you've done it by now."

Bobby let go of Anderson's shirt and took a small step back as he slightly lowered the gun. He looked at Alex and saw her visibly flinch at whatever she saw in his eyes. He knew it was the emptiness that made her swallow hard. "I'm sorry," he softly told her before he raised the gun.

Alex rammed into him as yanked his arm down as he pulled the trigger. Bobby stumbled over his feet and hit the side of a pew, causing him to lose his grip on the gun. His head connected with the edge of the wood, sending a rush of pain through his head as blood trickled down his face. He watched blurry-eyed as the gun went sliding across the floor and hit the wall. Alex went after it and picked it up and spun around with it, aiming it at something behind him.

Bobby looked over and saw the Anderson was gone. "Damn it," he yelled as he pulled himself to his feet. He glared at Alex as she started off toward the back of the church with her hands still cuffed together. "Alex, give me the gun."

She ignored him as she disappeared in the direction Anderson went. Bobby ran after her down the hallways and out the back door. He couldn't see them but he heard the noises through the trees and ran into the thick woods after them. It got denser the further he went and the sound of the river got louder.

Ahead of him, he spotted Alex and she was leaning against a tree panting hard and looking around desperately for someone and he knew it wasn't him she was trying to find. Bobby then heard movement off to his right and then the flash of a glint of light in through the leaves before he heard the scream.

The glint of light he had seen was of the Spyderco knife and the scream came from Alex. Bobby charged through the branches and then came to a dead stop at the sight before him. Right at the edge of the river, and not more than a few feet from where the drop off was, Anderson held Alex against him and his gun was in his hand. Alex's forearm was bleeding and the side of her shirt was soaking with blood from where he had cut her.

Anderson held the gun at him and then turned to on Alex. A gunshot exploded in his ears and he saw the look of horror on Alex's face as Anderson stumbled back, and brining her with him, tumbled into the flowing water.

Bobby didn't think as he ran for Alex and just before he jumped he swore he heard Elliot Stabler calling shouting his name. The river below him came quickly and he crashed into it and felt his legs hit the river's bottom before he broke through the surface of the water. He gasped for air as he searched the water for Alex. She was up ahead of him and shouting his name as she tried to stay afloat but with her hands cuffed she was quickly losing the battle.

He swam as hard as he desperately could toward her and soon he gained on her. His arms wrapped around her body as he river continued to swipe them downstream. Bobby struggled to hold her above water while his vision was darkening around the edges. The hit to his head was harder than he thought and he was afraid he was losing consciousness. It took all the fight he had left in him to keep them above water until the river calmed and they floated slowly to a stop.

Alex gagged and coughed out water as she struggled with him to not go under as he used one arm to pull them toward the bank. It didn't take long until he could touch bottom and together him and Alex staggered to the ground and breathed hard against the grass.

She turned to him and Bobby stared into her eyes clearly for the first time and smiled. "Hey, you okay?"

Alex shook her head no as she grabbed her side. Bobby pushed off the ground and moved her hand out of the way. The knife had cut her deeply and she was losing a lot of blood. Taking off his jacket, he pressed it against her to stop the blood flow.

"Stay with me, Alex. Hang on, help is coming." Bobby looked around and spotted the person he had thought he heard and was glad he did.

Elliot was running along the bank followed by Olivia and a few people he didn't recognize. "Are you hurt?"

"Alex's been cut; she's losing a lot of blood."

"Helicopter is on the way." Elliot came to a stop next to them and bent down. "Let me do that, you need to lie down."

"I'm fine."

"Bobby, you're pale and you have a gash in your head," Elliot told him as he shoved his hands away and replaced them with his own.

Bobby went to argue but the darkness that was pushing at his vision finally covered it completely. He felt his body hit the ground before he stopped feeling.

TBC…


	16. Saturday, October 16, 2004

**A/N:** Thanks again to everyone for there wonderful reviews. This chapter is short but the next one will be fuller and longer. Also, I just found out that there had been 3 different Chief of D's on the show since season 2, Yarrow (seasons 2 & 5), Bradshaw (season 6), and then Moran (starting season 7). The things you learn from the internet.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Kingston General Hospital_

_Kingston, Ontario_

_The surrounding water was freezing cold making it hard to move his tiring arms to keep him above the darkness that was creeping up from the bottom. His desperate attempts at breaking surface was dying as the struggling kicking of his legs stopped as something grabbed hold. A soundless scream broke from him and he swallowed down the cold water that froze his throat. He knew then that he was drowning. The darkness below him was getting closer as he looked down. There was someone wrapped around his legs, sinking him, killing him. The face was turned down as if the person was watching death coming up from the depths of the water to take them. Then, the person looked up and he knew he wouldn't try to fight any longer. The only reason he had for trying was pulling him down with her. _

Through the darkness, the red sting of light hit his eyes and he winced at the pain it caused his head. Reaching a hand up, he rubbed at his face and the pain intensified. A groan filled his ears and vibrated through his chest as he blinked his eyes open to be staring out a window. The blinds were open with the curtain pulled to both sides. It was raining and leaves were falling past the window, but he didn't recognize the street beyond it or the window he was looking out of.

Confusion swiped over him as he blinked back and looked around the room. There was a monitor above him and next to it was a saline bag that was empty. That was when he noticed the IV in his hand. Besides him, the room was empty; it was just him, the hospital equipment, and the bed he was lying in. He listened to the steady beat of his heart on the monitor before closing his eyes.

When his eyes closed, he could no longer smell the sterile odor of the hospital but the smell of the woods, trees, grass, and the midst of moisture. The rush of the cold water settled over him and he shivered against the bed and his eyes sprung open. He remembered jumping into the river; he remembered the coldness of the water and struggling to get to someone in the water…Alex. He remembered was trying to stay above water and she had been handcuffed. Then…Elliot, he remembered the detective beginning there and yelling his name just before his feet left the ground. Blood…Alex had been bleeding from her side.

Bobby looked around the room and wondered which hospital it was he was in, if he was still in Canada or not, and why wasn't there someone there to left him know what was going on. He reached for the call button and then kept pressing it until a nurse came in.

She didn't look too happy as she scolded him for repeatedly pressing the button. "That isn't a toy."

Bobby stared at the woman as she checked his vitals and then asked, "Is…Um, where am I?"

The name on her shirt was Teresa and she told him, "Kingston General."

"I'm still in Canada?"

Nurse Teresa gave him a passive look before picking up his chart, and then while she was writing on it, she told him, "Yes, but you'll be transferred out today."

"Wh-what? By whose authority? Is Alex coming with me?"

Nurse Teresa shrugged at that. "All I know is you've been unconscious since you got here, and an EMT helicopter is being arranged to fly you back to New York this afternoon." She put the chart down and then turned to him. "You have visitors, both of them cops. They seem anxious to see you."

Bobby closed his eyes as his head suddenly felt numb. Rubbing at his head that had a bandage wrapped around it, he told her "Let 'em in."

Within minutes, the door opened to the room and in walked Elliot and Captain Deakins, but no Alex.

Bobby saw the grim disapproval on Deakins face and looked away. Elliot wasn't any easier to look at, but he didn't feel like a he needed the detective's approval like he did with his Captain, so it didn't bother him. Looking right at Elliot, he asked, "Where's Alex?"

The looks exchanged between Elliot and Deakins only made him worry more as he pushed himself up in the bed and sat upright against the headboard.

Deakins was the one that told him, "She's up in the ICU. She won't be transferred out until tomorrow."

Bobby stared at his captain and asked the question no one seemed to want to give him. "What happened?"

Elliot answered that one as he stood next to the bed. "Anderson had cut her across the ribs on the left side. He nixed an artery, her lung…it caused a lot of damage. She was losing blood fast. We had the helicopter bring her here and they stabilized her enough for surgery. She's getting better by the hour they said, or at least that was what I was told a few hours ago."

Bobby waited until he was done as he took it all in. "I want to see her…Why--"

"Bobby," Deakins said as he tried to calm him down. He waited until he looked at him before continuing, "They can't keep you here. The only reason Alex is staying is because of her condition. Also, the Canadian authorities are bringing down a lot of heat not only on you, but the department for letting you get out of hand. They found your gun, and they know that you took an unregistered and unlicensed weapon into their country. You're very lucky you didn't wake up in jail."

Bobby had looked away from Deakins and was staring at the wall opposite him. He nodded his understanding before asking, "So, Anderson...he's, uh..."

"I shot him," Elliot told him with finality. "He's dead."

The nightmare that had been the last five days were finally over but Bobby felt no sense of relief. At the moment, he wasn't feeling too much of anything. Looking around the room he no longer wanted to be in, he said, "Get my doctor in here; I'm ready to leave."

"I don't think--"

"Captain," Bobby said with as much respect he could gather at the moment. "I'll go AMA if I have to. And I want to see Alex."

Deakins must have read the look on his face that there was no negotiation. He nodded but didn't say anything before he left the room.

Bobby watched as Deakins left before trying to get out of the bed. He gripped the headboard and pushed himself off the bed until his feet touched the cool tile floor. "Where're my clothes?"

"I'll get them," Elliot told him as he walked over to the closet by the bathroom door and opened it. He pulled out the stack of clothes and handed them to him. "I had them dried. And, it was a good thing you left your wallet and cell in your car or else you would have lost everything you had. And here's this," he pulled open a drawer to the desk that was next to the bathroom. "Your badge wallet, it's still use able, just water damaged."

Bobby looked at the wallet but only took the clothes as he went into the bathroom to change.

The doctor that was treating him wasn't too happy about signing him out so early, but after a check of his vitals and coherence the doctor finally conceded. Five minutes later Bobby was heading down the long corridor which led to the ICU waiting room.

"Eames's brother, Richard, is here. He has her power of attorney," Elliot told him as they turned the corner.

"I know; what're you getting at?"

Elliot shrugged. "I just thought it would be you."

Bobby glanced at Elliot as he asked, "Does your partner have yours?"

Elliot's jaw set tight as he visible stiffened. He didn't answer until they were almost to the big double doors that took up the whole width of the corridor. "No, my soon to be ex-wife still has it."

Bobby stopped and the doors and turned to face him. "I was going to give it to her, but then I thought…we're always together. If something happened to me, it might also happen to her. We can't do anything for each other if we're both injured. Plus, her family deserves to make the decisions, not me."

"So, who deserves to make yours?"

Bobby pushed the door open as he said, "The only person I trust enough besides Eames, my captain."

The open area in front of him wasn't the off-white of the corridor he had just left but a light pinkish color with a darker shade of pinkish carpeting. Bobby bristled at the color and realized he would rather be staring at white walls. There were seats and sofas in the waiting room of the same color that looked to have come out of the sixties and they smelled of old dust that would probably burn his eyes if he sat in them.

Working his jaw around, he tried to settle his growing anxiety that was fueling his sudden distaste for everything and one around him. If he kept feeling like this he was going to end up causing a scene and getting kicked out. That was the last thing he wanted as he went over to the glass window in the wall. Behind it sat the nurse at a desk and she was typing something into the computer from a file in front of her.

There was no one in the waiting room and he was curious as to why. Bobby tapped on the glass causing to nurse to look up at him.

She opened the sliding window and asked, "May I help you?"

"I was wondering where Richard Eames went?"

"And you are?"

Bobby pulled out his badge wallet and held it up. "Robert Goren, Alex Eames partner."

The nurse studied his ID before she told him, "Mr. Eames is back in ICU. I can go get him for you."

"Thanks." Bobby turned around and saw Elliot sitting in a chair talking into his cell.

As he watched Elliot on the phone, he had a sense that maybe he should be making some phone calls too. Pulling out his phone, he figured the first person he should call was Lewis. He had to let his friend know he was all right.

It took two rings before Lewis answered, "Is everything okay? Is she all right?"

Bobby's head started to ache as he calmed his friend's frantic voice. "Whoa, hang on, calm down."

"Sorry, it's just I saw it on the news. They said that she was found but was in critical condition and you were injured and listed as stable but I hadn't heard from you since yesterday and..." he took a deep breath and then didn't say anything.

"Yeah, uh, I'm fine, but they're right about Alex. She's still in ICU; it's...uh, don't worry, okay? She's getting better."

Lewis was silent for a long couple of seconds before saying, "Yeah, well, if she can survive a relationship with you, she can survive this."

Bobby couldn't help but smiling into the phone. Lewis always said stuff like that to him and usually it made him mad, now it made him think and feel that hopefully soon enough everything would be okay and almost back to normal. He heard a door opening and saw Richard coming up to him. "Hey, uh, I've got to go. I'll call you later." He didn't wait for a response as he shut the phone and held out his hand to Alex's brother.

Richard pushed away the hand and did something that took Bobby completely by surprise. The man hugged him. He tensed but allowed the quick embrace and patted Rich on the back until the man let go. He took a glance over at Elliot who was trying hard to suppress the smile on his face.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Bobby," Rich told him as he stepped a few feet back. "I was down earlier to see if you were awake yet but you were still out."

Bobby nodded his thanks at that as he looked toward the door Rich had come out of. "Is she...I mean, how..." for some reason he couldn't get the words out that he wanted to say. There were too many questions he had and he was afraid of all the answers.

Rich seemed to understand as he told him, "She's doing better...stabilized, as the doctors would say. Yesterday she was on a ventilator, but she's off that now. The damage to her lung wasn't too bad. What hurt her most were the nixed artery and whatever drug she had been given. She had lost a lot of blood and had to wait before they could do the surgery, and the waiting caused more damage because of the drug that was in her system...I don't know; I didn't understand how the drug caused more damage..." He shook his head and closed his eyes.

Bobby felt his own body go a little numb as Rich relayed to him what had been happening to Alex while he had been unconscious. It unnerved him to think that he had come very close to losing her and not even knowing a damn thing about it. "Ca-can, um..." he had to clear his throat before he continued, "Can I see her?"

Rich had opened his eyes and he nodded slightly. "Yeah, just...She's a little banged up. Looks worse than you," he said with a weak smile.

Bobby returned the hollow smile as he followed along side him. He looked over at Elliot and the detective waved, indicating that he was okay to say out in the waiting room.

The walls returned to there normal shade of off-white as they headed down the corridor, past the check-in desk where Bobby had to sign his name, and then walk down another long corridor to Alex's room.

It was dark in the room with the curtains closed, but he could hear the steady beeping coming from the heart monitor. From a distance she looked okay but once he got closer he saw the bruises from where she had been banged up. Her left eye was a little swollen and her head was wrapped like his. Another bandage was wrapped around her right arm and he could see some blood leaking through. She was covered with a white blanket so he couldn't see her body but he knew it would be bandaged as well.

"Has she woken up yet?" Bobby asked as he stared down at Alex in the bed.

"No," Rich answered as he pulled a chair over beside him.

Bobby looked at the chair but didn't sit; turning back to Alex, he carefully reached out and touched her right hand that was lying loosely on the bed. It was warm and soft and he had to smile.

"I'll go keep Detective Stabler company."

Bobby barely acknowledged Rich as he kept his focus on Alex. He hesitantly sat down, afraid that if he sat he would give into the exhaustion he was feeling and fall asleep. Keeping his hand on hers, he watched the rising and falling of her chest under the blanket and felt her pulse. It was strong and steady. She was going to be okay.

His chest suddenly felt lighter as the relief he had been holding in finally escaped. Bobby leaned back in the chair as he continued his vigilance and hoping that she would wake up soon.

* * *

The cafeteria of the hospital was packed with doctors, nurses, and visitors getting lunch but he was only interested in the coffee. Jimmy was in line and paying for the two large cups when he felt the cell phone on his hip vibrate. Looking at the person that was calling his cell phone, he cursed under his breath. Flipping the phone open, he answered, "Captain Deakins."

"Jimmy, this is Chief Yarrow. We've got to talk."

He felt the impending migraine as he placed one cup on top of the other and headed out of the crowded cafe. "What's this about Chief?"

"It's about two of your detectives and what was in the papers yesterday."

Jimmy had already had this conversation with the Commissioner before he had gotten on a plane yesterday to fly up to Canada. He was confused on why the Chief would call him about when today when he should have been informed by the Commissioner. "Chief, I took care of all that with the Commissioner yesterday."

"And I want to hear it from you now."

He had always liked Yarrow, but right then he was on the verge of actually hating the man. "Chief, right now I'm in a hospital in Canada while both of those detectives are in serious medical conditions." He didn't tell him that Bobby was fine and wake, but he didn't want to have to deal with this just yet. He still had Bobby to talk to about everything, including the letter he had in his jacket pocket. "When I'm ready to discuss it with you, and after I talk to my detectives about it, I'll let you know."

Closing the phone, he pressed the button for the elevator and took a deep breath. The things he went through to protect his detectives.

* * *

Bobby was dozing off with his head resting on the bed next to Alex's arm that he still had a hold of when a voice cleared. Opening his eyes and shifting his head on the bed, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Rich standing in the doorway.

"Your captain's in the waiting room. He needs to talk to you."

He let out a groan as he closed his eyes. Rubbing at his head that felt like it was been beaten in with a hammer, Bobby slowly got to his feet and headed for the door.

"You might want someone to check your head. It's leaking blood."

Bobby veered away from the door and stepped into the small bathroom. Rich was right, his bandage was leaking blood and it had dried in his hair and on his face. Taking a wet washcloth, he cleaned his face but there wasn't much he could do about his hair. He would shower when he figured out which hotel was close to the hospital.

The waiting room was still horrible looking as he opened the door and spotted Captain Deakins pacing the floor. In all the years he had served under Deakins, he had never seen him pace or as nervous as he did just then.

"Captain?" Bobby asked as he let the door slowly swing shut behind him.

"Bobby, take a walk with me." Deakins didn't leave any room for debate as he started down the hall.

Bobby soon fell in step with him and Deakins handed him one of the cups in his hand.

They had walked in silence for a while, around the halls and to a set of stairs that lead down to a small lobby area. Off that there was a door that led out into a small court yard with tables and benches. The yard was empty and Deakins stopped a table and sat his coffee down on it then gestured for him to sit across from him.

Bobby sat down and finally took a sip of the coffee before he reached into his pocket out of habit and felt nothing. He didn't have anything, not a lighter or a cigarette, just a water damaged badge wallet. His other wallet with all his money and credit cards and his cell had been in his car which was probably at a police station near the hospital or border.

Deakins was watching him and realized what he had been looking for. "When did you start smoking again?"

Bobby took another, larger gulp from the coffee before answering, "Since…um, I think it was when Alex went missing was when it got real bad, became a habit."

"Your head okay?"

He nodded at it vibrated his whole head. It was hurting, but he could manage. Bobby felt pain all the way down his body from his head to the left hand down to his right knee. The pain was nothing new and he had been dealing with it for over a year, almost two. "So, what's this about?"

Deakins reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a white envelope. He tossed it over to him while he told him. "I can't accept that."

Bobby didn't have to look at it to know what it was. He pushed it back over to him as he said, "Yes, you do."

"Bobby, you don't even know what your options are yet."

Shaking his head, he said, "I don't need to know what they are to know what Alex's are, or is. She's senior partner. The papers…It's public now. That leaves the brass with only one option for her, and that's to fire her. I won't let that happen."

"Then that's it. You're just going to quit without first meeting with the brass and maybe working out a deal. You can always transfer."

Bobby rubbed at his head and stared at the table. "Yeah, I can, but that still leaves her out on her ass, Captain."

"Let me ask you this."

Bobby sighed and shook his head.

"Bobby, just listen." When he got his full attention, Deakins continued, "What do you want to happen? If they don't fire Alex, and you don't quit, what do you want to happen?"

"Best case or worst?"

"Either, both."

Bobby grabbed the cup and took a few long sips as he thought about that. He hadn't thought about that possibility before. "Well, the best and worst are basically the same, it all ends with me transferred and no longer Alex's partner, and her…being demoted and transferred out of Major Case."

Deakins took that all in before he said, "The hearing is Monday. I'm going to be there with you, and I'm going to fight for both of you to stay in my squad. If it comes down to one of you going and one of you staying…"

"I'll go." Bobby didn't need to think about that decision for one second. It was automatic.

"You're not even going to talk this over with Alex? Don't you think she has the right to know the deal before you accept it?"

"Captain, in this envelope is my resignation." Bobby held it up and handed it to him. "I'm already content with leaving for good. What makes you think that Alex needs to argue with me over who goes and who stays? The fact is, come Monday, if all your pull in the world doesn't get Alex to stay with the PD, I'm gone."

Deakins watched him as he tossed the envelope back on the table and then got up. "You're making a mistake."

Bobby went to walk away when he turned back to face his captain. "The only mistake I'll be making is if I stay for myself. If I try to save my own ass and leave that woman that's up there in the hospital bed without her life once she wakes up. I can't do that, not after yesterday."

Deakins was confused at that last part as he asked, "Why only yesterday?"

Bobby hesitated for a moment before asking, "Did you find my shield?" When Deakins nodded, he said, "I left it because I knew…I knew that I was going to…" he trailed off as he had to look away from his captain. "I was planning on not coming back. I came here to kill him. If-if Alex hadn't stopped me I would have. How…how could I wear a badge again after that?"

He finally walked away, and as he did Bobby felt he was leaving another disappointed father-figure in his wake.

Hours later he was staring at his car at the Kingston Police Department. They wouldn't let him stay. He had broken the law with bringing his gun into the country and the police were giving him a break given the circumstances, but they told him that he had to leave the country since he was no longer a patient at the hospital.

Elliot was going to ride back to New York with him so he wouldn't have to drive alone and Deakins was staying until they transferred Alex. Her transfer was scheduled for tomorrow morning.

"Ready?" Elliot asked as he rounded the car to the passenger door.

Bobby stared at him as he pulled out open the door and pulled down the visor. His keys landed in his hand but he still didn't say anything. He didn't speak for the entire drive back to the city.

TBC…


	17. Sunday, October 17, 2004

_Alex Eames's Apartment_

It had been after nine o'clock in the evening when he had dropped Elliot off at his home in Queens. Bobby had started heading home when his thoughts became too much. He had driven to Manhattan, went around Central Park a few times, then into the Financial District and went by ground-zero before heading back into Brooklyn. Three hours later, he found himself driving southeast and then over the bridge to Rockaway.

He did not known why in all the places he ended up parked in front of Alex's house, staring up at the dark windows. It was almost one in the morning. That gave him seven hours before Alex would be arriving in New York. She was schedule to leave the hospital in Canada by helicopter at seven and arriving at the Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital in Queens at around eight-thirty.

As he stared up at the empty house, he wondered if her parents or siblings had been there yet to get the house ready for when she came home. Probably, that seemed like something they would do. He got out of his car and went up the steps, pulling out his keys as he did so. Even though it was dark inside, he knew that someone had been there and cleaned up the place. It smelt clean and not the stuffy stale air he was expecting. He smelt wood cleaner and a citrus air fresher.

Polly's cage was gone and he stared at the empty space in the living room and sighed heavily. He had forgotten about the bird. Bobby felt the twinge of pain as that thought crossed his mind. It could have died because of him; he should have been the one to take the bird, at least until one of Alex's family members came and got it.

Once in the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and saw it was empty of anything that could have gone bad. The cabinets had all been gone through the same and anything that had been past the expiration date had been tossed out. She was going to need groceries when she came back. He would handle that.

The short hallway was too dark for his eyes to adjust and he hesitated as he looked toward her bedroom. There was no reason for him to go in there and he was starting to feel intrusive in the silent house. Without Alex there, he had no reason to continue staying. He turned around and went back into the kitchen.

He knew that he was not going to get any sleep that night. All the energy in him was increasing in anticipation of the coming hours. Searching through the cabinets, the only bottle he found with alcohol in it was a half-empty bottle of Riesling wine. It was what remained from one of their romantic dinners. He opened the sliding door that led from the kitchen to the small back patio and stepped out into the cold air.

It was starting to feel more like mid-November than it was October as he sat down on the wicker chair by the patio table. The lack of noise was actually startling. He was used to the sound of the city, of cars going by every few minutes, people talking, or yelling, as they went down the street along with car horns and police sirens. The silence that engulfed him was anything but calming. It was feeding the fire in his head and heart, making it all more dangerous. The silence allowed his fears and insecurities, and his faults and weaknesses, to consume his being.

On his mindless journey around the five boroughs, he had stopped off at a bodega and bought a pack of cigarettes. The pack was still in the plastic foil and he was aching to take one out but was resisting. After Alex disappeared, he had dealt with his stress by lighting up and he hated it every time. It had been years since he last smoked and those years meant that he had been younger. Now he was hurting, his chest was feeling tight and constricted, but the aching cravings were just as strong, if not stronger than the pain. He was scared of it becoming a habit again. He did not want it as a habit, not anymore.

His hands twisted hard together before he reached for the bottle of wine and opened it instead of pulling out the pack that was burning a hole in his inside jacket pocket. He sat on the hard wood, staring at the ground and into the darkness of the neighborhood, until the bottle was empty and forgotten at his side. At some point, he got up and sat down in a soft wicker chair next to the small round table. He leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankles, and continued to let his mind bounce around in thought and torment until a ray of light peeked around the adjacent house.

* * *

_Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital_

_Glen Oaks, Queens_

He had gotten the call around at eight-seventeen from Richard. They had checked her into the ICU but once the doctors checked her vitals they moved her into Recovery. He had missed the call because he was in the shower but the voicemail had been waiting. After cleaning up, he did not bother to eat or even make coffee before he started up his car and headed toward the hospital.

Bobby stood on the sidewalk looking at the entrance to the hospital as he nervously stepped around the ten cubic feet around his body. The ache in his head surpassed the ache in his body as he took a long drag off his first cigarette of the day. He had tried but lost the battle when he saw a couple of Alex's family members enter the building a few minutes ago. The nerves he was feeling the first day he met her family was mild compared to what he was feeling right then. At least when he met them, he had Alex there to save him from all of the discomfort he had been feeling.

Richard was okay with him, and seemed not to blame him for anything that had happened, but that was Richard. He liked Richard and vice versa. The rest of the Eames clan was a different story. There was no thought in his mind that they might actually all think the way Richard did. In fact, he would not be surprised if they all hated him and never wanted to see him again. A lot happened since he had last seen her family. Their relationship hit the fan, so to speak, and was now out in the public. Then during the rescue, Alex suffered a major injury and ended up in ICU because he was too much out of his mind to think about anything else but shooting the bastard.

"Are you going to go in or keep staring at it?"

Bobby recognized the voice immediately. He turned around and came face-to-face with Alex's dad. "Hey, uh, John," he greeted as he shook the man's hand. "I, uh…" he stopped as he held up his left hand, showing the cigarette. "I had to wait."

John glanced away from his eyes briefly to the cigarette in his hand before saying, "Put it out and come on. You can go up with us."

At the word 'us', Bobby realized that he hadn't noticed Emily standing next to him. "Oh, s-sorry," he mumbled awkwardly as he dropped the cigarette into one of the sand ashtray stands that was by the door.

He noticed that Emily wasn't walking well that day as she was being helped by John to get into the door. Bobby quickly wrapped his left arm around her waist and walked with them into the hospital. "Do you want a chair, Mrs. Eames?"

"No, I do not," she said with a firm resilience that usually heard from Alex.

Bobby caught John's eyes and saw the man roll them in aspiration at his wife. It made him smile for the first time in what felt like weeks.

They made it up to the fifth floor without incident, but by the time they got to the waiting room Emily was drained of energy and sat down heavily in a chair next to Angie. Bobby looked around the waiting room and spotted everyone except the children. He figured that Heather and Eric were in charge of babysitting the little kids.

Richard came over and after greeting his mother, told them, "They're still getting Alex ready. Whatever that means. She's still asleep but tried waking up on the flight down. We'll be able to go in soon they said but only two at a time until she gets better. They don't want her to get overwhelmed and…" he trialed off as he looked confused by what he was saying. Rubbing his head, he shook it fast while saying, "I don't know what'll happen if she gets overwhelmed."

Bobby knew and understood the signs of sleep deprivation when he saw it. He was going through it and so was Richard. The man was speaking fast, slurring some words, his movements were choppy, and he was getting confused by his own thoughts and forgetting. He stepped up to him and gripped his shoulder while guiding him to a chair. "When was the last time you slept?"

Richard stared at him in confusion before he looked like he was trying to remember. "I think I got a few hours in Kingston."

"Sit," Bobby ordered him as he lightly pushed him down. In his pants pocket, he felt his cell phone vibrate against his leg. "You need to rest."

"So do you. You're looking pretty bad, Bobby."

He smiled a little as he nodded. "You're right, I do. I will if you will, okay?" Bobby waited until Richard nodded and closed his eyes as he leaned back in the chair before he stepped away from the group.

"Where y'going?" Richard asked from the chair but not attempting to get up.

Bobby pointed over his shoulder down the hall. "Just over here, I've got to make a phone call."

Once he was a short way down the other corridor, Bobby pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. He had one missed call and it was from Carmel Ridge. _Shit._

After a couple of rings, the receptionist answered, "Carmel Ridge Center, this is Nancy. How may I help you?"

"Yeah, uh, Nancy, this is Bobby Goren."

"Oh, Mr. Goren. I just tried calling you. Dr. Schimo wanted me to get a hold of you since he hadn't talked to you in a week. He wanted to know if you were coming in today as usual?"

Bobby rubbed at the stubble on his jaw as he asked, "How's my mother doing?"

"Dr. Schimo was able to get her calmed with a higher dose of Geodon. Her hallucinations have stopped but she's still suffering delusions of thought."

He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling for a second as the debate in him roared as his head started to ache. "Did he want me to come?"

Nancy was quiet for a moment before she actually asked him, "Are you saying you're not?"

She seemed shocked. Bobby was shocked. He wanted to see Alex more than he wanted to see his mother, and for him that was startling. However, it didn't matter what he wanted. His devotion to his mother ran deeper than his want to be the first person Alex saw when she woke.

Alex was still asleep and her entire family was there to see her when she woke. It wasn't like she was going to be alone once she regained consciousness. No matter how much he desperately wanted to see Alex, his mother had no one but him. He had to go. The guilt was already setting in and it had only been a few seconds since he said those words.

"Uh, never mind. Forget I even asked. I'll be there." Bobby straightened off the wall and looked around the hallway. No one was paying attention to him and his phone call. Dropping his head down, he rubbed at his neck as he paced a little and asked, "Can I speak to her?"

"Sure," she told him. "I'll have a nurse take a phone in her room. Hang on."

Bobby was facing the wall when he heard the line click.

"Hello? Bobby?"

He smiled slightly at the hoarse tentative voice of his mother. She sounded like she was having a bad time and he could imagine how. "Yeah, mom. It's me."

"Where've you been?"

Bobby closed his eyes and rubbed at the ache pounding just behind his eyelids. "I've…been busy, with work. I'm going to be on my way soon; okay?"

There was silence on the line for a moment before she said, "On your way from where? It's been months since the uh, the night…Where are you calling from? How come it's so quiet? Your brother calls and you don't. It's like you disappeared. I was starting to get worried."

Bobby felt the physical flinch of his body as he stared at the wall. "Uh, worried about me?"

"You? Why would I worry about you? What've you done?"

Bobby knew that it was pointless to ask her questions about what she meant so he just told her again, "I'm coming; okay? Soon, I'll be there."

The line clicked and then went dead. Bobby flipped his phone shut as he kept rubbing at his neck. It was either do that or hit the wall in frustration. Turning, he stopped as he saw John standing at the corner of the hall watching him.

"I know that look," John said as he approached him. "You've been called in?"

Bobby shook his head as he pocketed the phone. "Yeah, but, uh, not to work. It's…my mother. I've…I've got to go up to Carmel Ridge; her doctor wants to talk to me."

"Oh," John said somberly. He looked around and smiled a little before telling him, "It's okay if you've got to leave. If Alex wakes before you get back, I'll tell her it was your mother. She'll understand."

Bobby closed his eyes against the frustration that was threatening to explode. "It's just I really want to be here."

John smile was soft and warm as he opened his eyes to be looking directly at him. "I know. I'll call you when she wakes. I've got your number."

Bobby wondered how that happened but shook it off. John had once been a cop. All cops had their ways of getting things they needed. "Okay, um….Can I ask you for a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Don't tell her about the, uh…about our relationship being, out." Bobby didn't like having to ask this of Alex's dad, but it was important to him to be the one to tell her, to talk to her first about it. "I want to be the one to tell her first, so we can, uh…talk, about it."

John seemed to think about that before he agreed. "Okay, but I wasn't planning on being the one to tell her anyway. I'll let everyone know, but the person you need to ask that favor of is Liz. She's the one that likes, uh…" he looked confused as trying to recall a memory before saying, "Oh, she likes causing drama."

Bobby had to smile at that. "I'll talk to her. Thanks, John." He watched as John walked away and sighed heavily. Liz didn't like him at all and now he had to talk to her decently about doing him a favor.

Liz was standing away from the group, leaning against the far wall, and sipping on a bottle of Mountain Dew. The image made his stomach turn for a few different reasons. One was because he really didn't want to have to talk to Liz. Truth be told, the woman got on his nerves.

Two, Bobby couldn't stand the soda she had in her hand and he remembered it causing him to get sick the first and only time he decided to try it. It was just something about the taste and the way it felt when it hit his stomach that made him instantly repulsed.

Alex had been shocked when he told her once over lunch that he couldn't stand the drink. She bought cases of it and kept them in her apartment because she knew he wouldn't go near it. Once she had taken a big drink of it just before he went in to kiss her and backed off, saying he couldn't kiss her after she had that in her mouth. After a few minutes of teasing, she finally just took him to the floor and got his kiss.

That memory still made him smile as he made his way over to Alex's sister. Thinking back to what he saw in her apartment last night, he couldn't remember seeing any. He made a mental note to stop at a store and pick her up a case and stock it in the refrigerator so when she got home there would be cold ones ready.

Liz was just about to recap the bottle when he stepped up to her; bending his head down slightly, Bobby kept his voice low as he asked, "May I speak with you?"

Liz seemed surprised at first and then suspicion filled her eyes. She finished recapping the bottle before she shrugged, "Sure. What's it about?"

He was amazed at how agitated and scared he felt. He could talk to just about anyone and he had even braved the uncomfortably tense conversations with Alex's father, but he still couldn't get comfortable around Liz. And that made him more nervous than anything. Also the fact that Liz and Alex were extremely close caused him more fear because he didn't want to cause any riff between the two close sisters.

It was what he called 'family politics', and he understood it less than he did the corporate kind. All he was trying to do was save himself from being dragged into it and then buried under it. Every time he opened his mouth to these people, he was walking a very fine line and on one side was acceptance, on the other was abandonment. He was saving face with a few of the family members, but he had yet to win over Liz and he didn't think that he would ever gain her acceptance.

Bobby realized that he hadn't said anything in a long couple of seconds and Liz was looking actually concerned for him. "Sorry, I'm really tired and I forgot what I was going to say," he tried to play off his spacey moment as he regrouped. He really was tired and he figured that was why his mind was throwing him blanks.

"You are looking worse than usual."

Bobby looked more confused than hurt by that comment, but it did sting just from the way she said it.

"I mean," she quickly explained when she saw the look on his face. "The last few times I've seen you you've been looking tired and unshaven…you know, pretty bad. With the cut on your head, you just look like a wreck."

"Uh, okay. I'll try to look better when Alex finally wakes up and I know that she's going to be fine."

Liz suddenly looked like a scolded child and there was even a look of sympathy that took him by surprise. "I'm sorry, Bobby. When I don't sleep I get more critical than usual."

Bobby nodded like he understood when he felt nothing up abandoning the reason he came over to talk to her. He couldn't do that, he had to make sure that Alex knew nothing that was going on until he was able to talk to her about it first. "Look, Liz. Um, the reason I came over here wasn't to hear how you think I'm not worth the time and day to be with your sister." Okay, maybe lack of sleep made him more blunt than usual, but he was getting pissed off and he had a long drive up to Carmel Ridge to look forward to. "All I want to ask of you is that…for you to not tell Alex about, uh…about our relationship being made public. I need to sort of things out at work about it and, just…I would really like to be the one to talk to her first about. I need to be the one to tell her. Okay?"

Liz was quiet for a long couple of minutes as she stared into his desperate eyes that nearly pleaded with the woman. And he hated having to plead. The inferiority in him was rising and he had to get out of there before he got too angry with himself for feeling that way and go off on somebody. He was scared to death that it would be Liz and then he would forget the favor he just asked.

"I understand," she finally told him. "I promise, I won't tell her."

Bobby didn't know if he should believe her or not, but even though Liz was the first woman he had ever wanted to go off on in years, she was also Alex's sister. He had to take her word for it and leave it at that. "Thank you."

He didn't stick around to see what else she or anyone else wanted to say to him. After excusing himself with John and Emily, he was down the stairs and out the door in a matter of minutes.

* * *

_Carmel Ridge Center_

She wasn't in her room when he got there and at first he was afraid that she had to be restrained again but then he checked her schedule that was on the back of the door and realized that she was eating in the cafeteria eating lunch. In all the years he had been there, he never arrived before one in the afternoon. So for him to be there so early, he was set out of his normal routine and had to track his mother down.

The cafeteria looked more like a dining hall with round tables that had plastic vases with flowers in them sitting on top of them. There were also booths along a far wall but mostly the doctors and nurses sat in those. It seemed that everyone who lived in the wing that his mother resided in were there having lunch and that was probably how it was conducted. One hall would go and then the next until there was no one left to feed until dinnertime.

His mother was at a table with another woman and Dr. Schimo was next to her. Bobby noticed that the doctor was first to notice his presence because his mother was too engrossed in her conversation with the woman to noticed him approaching. "Doctor," he greeted as he shook the man's hand.

Dr. Schimo stood as he shook his hand, "Bobby. Have a seat."

Bobby sat down across from the doctor and to the left of his mother who still didn't acknowledge that he was there.

As she talked to the woman across from her, his mother's hands were moving freely and wildly, much like his own hands that seemed to move without any thought or control by him.

"Mrs. Goren?" His mother stopped her movements and almost breathless talking as she looked over at Dr. Schimo. "You have a visitor," he said as he gestured across the table to him.

Frances finally looked over at him and stared for a second before saying curtly, "You're late."

Bobby didn't feel like arguing, so he nodded a little and agreed with her. "I know. I'm sorry."

"You never called me all week."

He smiled a little because she was back on schedule with what day of the week it was. Earlier she had told him it had been months, but that was all part of the coming and going of her reality, so he never made it an issue unless he felt the need to justify himself. He hadn't had the need to justify himself to his mother for a long time. "You're right, and there's no excuse. I'm sorry."

She had a look as if she wanted to say something else but changed her mind. Instead, Frances turned back to the woman who was across from her and started talking again. With him, her voice had been apathetic and condescending. As she talked to the woman, her affect had changed and she was actually smiling a little as she talked.

Bobby watched his mother for a second before looking at Dr. Schimo who had noticed the obvious change. "Can we talk somewhere more private?"

Dr. Schimo led him away from the table and to an empty booth across the room. Bobby sat down heavily and buried his head in his hands as he breathed out deeply. It wasn't his mother that was getting to him, but that he was sitting there instead of by Alex's bedside.

"I saw the papers," Dr. Schimo announced. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Bobby stared over at the doctor as he willed the suddenly fear away. "My mother?"

He shook his head as he reassured him, "We never let her read the papers or watch the news. The last time we did that, well…she believed that the CNN new anchor was sending her messages."

Once the relief set in, Bobby dropped his hands and looked over to where his mother was sitting. Her movements were choppy and her hands seemed like they had derailed from what she was saying. "I'm not staying long. I just wanted to see for myself that…that she's getting better. Last week, um, seeing her being sedated, and held down…"

"It doesn't happen often, Bobby. That was only the second--"

"Third," Bobby corrected. "I was the third time it happened."

"Okay," Dr. Schimo continued, "but that's still marginally less than what most go through."

"One is too many." Bobby shot a glare at him before returning to watching his mother. The woman she was talking to couldn't get a word in and she was looking annoyed. His mother was oblivious to the woman's sense of annoyance and he started to feel sorry for her. "The medication isn't working. She's getting worse, isn't she?"

There was a moment of long silence before Dr. Schimo answered, "She's always going to get worse. You know that. There is no cure. The medication can only help her for so long before her mind deteriorates and she has another break. She went undiagnosed for years, Bobby. By the time she came to us--"

"You mean before I brought her to you. It wasn't her choice, not at first." When nothing was said, and the silence stretched on for what felt like hours, Bobby turned and looked at the doctor.

It seemed like the doctor was just figuring something out. Dr. Schimo sat back and asked him, "What's this really about?"

Bobby blinked back and shook his head; he didn't know what the doctor was getting at. This wasn't about anything except his mother. Wasn't it?

"You're feeling guilty, conflicted about something."

Bobby sat, dumbfounded, as he took that in. He was once again reminded that Dr. Schimo was a doctor of psychiatry and that he could read people too. It was usually hard for people to read him if he kept his mouth shut; once he opened it, his emotions or thoughts usually poured out in one way or the other.

He took one last glance toward his mother and realized she wouldn't even know if he left, and she would also care less if he did. Turning back to the doctor, he gave him a curt nod before getting up. "I'll see you next week."

Bobby walked over to his mother; he lent down to be eye level with her and kissed her temple. "I'm leaving now."

Frances turned to him and gave him an odd look as if she didn't even know who he was until she told him, "You'll call tomorrow and I don't want to hear any excuses. Oh, and I saw it's my birthday next week. I want you and Frank both here."

Bobby nodded as he told her, "I'll try to get him."

She then gave him that odd look again before looking away. That was her way of saying that the discussion was over.

It was much like her just hanging the phone up without waiting for an answer or saying 'good-bye'. Bobby had found that on occasion, he would do that exact same thing to people. He would completely ignore or disregard them as if they hadn't even been there.

"What's the matter?"

Bobby nearly jumped at the sound of Dr. Schimo's voice in his ear. "Uh, nothing. I'm…" he shook his head and started for the door.

* * *

_Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital_

John had called him while he was doing ninety on the interstate. Bobby had known better than to try to answer it but just seeing the name confirmed for him that Alex was now awake. It had taken him an hour to get back to the hospital but it took another twenty to find a place to park and he finally settled on the roof of the parking garage a block away.

The waiting room was thinning out as people were leaving. Bobby spotted a few of Alex's family remaining, John, Richard, and Angie. "Where's everyone?"

Rich seemed to be only standing because he was leaning against the wall with Angie at his side. "Home. She woke up a while ago, and we all got to see her. She's sleeping now, though. They're only going to let a few of us stay out here for so long before they kick us out."

Bobby winced at Alex's brother's obvious sleep deprivation. "You're not driving are you?"

Angie answered that as she said, "Are you kidding? I'm not letting my big brother get himself killed. I'm driving him."

Of course she was, siblings did things like that for each other. Bobby gave the impression he was still paying attention but he kept looking toward the doors and down the hall were Alex's room was. His anxiousness to see her was nearly killing.

John must have seen this because he suddenly took him by the arm and steered him toward the door. "Come on, visiting hours are still going on until five."

Bobby let the older man take his arm and pull him halfway across the waiting room toward the big double doors. "Thanks."

"I can see it in you."

Bobby held the door open as John stepped through the doorway before him. "See what?"

John just looked at him with an approved smile before showing him the way. Once they got to the door, he told him, "They've been letting us go in for about ten minutes. If you put a fight, they might extend it to thirty."

Bobby didn't know what to say to John so he didn't say anything as he slipped into the room. It looked anything like the ICU room. The room reminded him more of a small hotel room with the nice wallpaper and TV and there were chairs that were actually soft and comfortable.

There were no longer tubes to help her breathe and there was only one IV going into her hand. The heart monitor was on and the beat was steady and calm. Bobby felt all the chaotic emotions that had been building in him the whole day suddenly evaporate. Taking Alex's hand much like he did when she was in ICU, he sat down in a chair next to her bed and closed his eyes. Slumping back in the chair, he watched her as she slept and felt a smile tug at his lax mouth.

He wasn't going anywhere. Security would have to sedate him and drag him out if they wanted him to leave her now.

TBC…


	18. Monday, October 18, 2004

A/N: Thanks again to everyone for there wonderful reviews! There are only three more chapters to go with this story. However, there is one last story to follow this one. I had no idea this was going to be a Trilogy until I was writing this one. Anyway, it will be a long while until I get the new story up and running because I do owe everyone the short continuation to my other story, 'Another Day in Paradise'. So, I want to get that one done before I commit myself to anything else.

Okay, I'll shut-up now.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital_

He was drifting through a heavy blanket of darkness when he felt something sweep over him. It was there, but then it wasn't, like a whisper of a touch. Even though it was barely noticeable, it found its way into the dark with him. He felt it again, this time it was soothing and lasted longer; it buried itself into his hair and then moved over his face. Turning into the touch, he realized that he was waking.

Blinking his eyes open, he saw the silhouettes of furniture and black shadows that hid the room. There was a beeping in his ear that was Alex's heartbeat and it wasn't as steady as it once was when he had been watching her sleep. Turning his head, he felt her hand turn with it and that was when he knew that she had been caressing him in his sleep. Bobby shifted his eyes across the bed and up the white sheet until he was staring into Alex's dark eyes.

"You're awake," she told him. Her voice was rough and straining, but it was the best thing he has heard all week.

Bobby had used his left arm as a pillow and it was tingling as he reached out and ran his hand over her legs up to her waist. Keeping his right hand on her left, he pushed himself up on his left arm until he was hovering over her face. He kissed her over her forehead, in her hair, down her face and then finally captured her lips in his.

It ignited a longing deep within in and he could stop the urgency of it as he deepened the kiss. Alex didn't seem to mind as she got her hand out from under his and held him to her. It seemed like he kissed her forever but it still wasn't enough. When he couldn't breathe any longer, he rested his head against hers and breathed her in as he started to shake.

Alex wrapped both her arms around him and held him close, unable to let him go as he shuttered with all the pent-up emotions that had been buried in him since he found her gone.

The words "I'm sorry," broke from his trembling lips and he was uncertain as to why.

"Shh," her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered to him. What was said after that he didn't know.

Bobby closed his eyes and just listened to her voice and the way her breath made him shiver. Her words were comforting and familiar; for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he felt at home. He was reluctant to move, but he felt his back protesting with the awkward position and he was afraid that he was hurting her, and of course, she wouldn't tell him.

Leaning back, Bobby kissed her again before easing back down into the chair. "How're you feeling?"

Despite the lack of light in the room, he could tell that she was still tired. She was also still on painkillers from the surgery. Alex smiled warmly at him as she said, "Bet'er now you're 'ere." She looked around in confusion before asking, "Wha time's it?"

"Uh, it's…after two."

"Inna morning?"

Bobby smiled slightly at her grogginess. She was still so out of it he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't remember this conversation in the morning. "Yeah. I, uh, had to bribe the nurses to let me stay. They wanted to call security, but I promised them dinner and dancing."

Alex blinked back at him before saying, "Don' forget flowers an' canny when you pick 'em up. Do I 'ook that bad?"

Bobby chuckled as he shook his head. "You look beautiful."

"You're lying," she told him with a whine, like a disappointed child. "Be honest, how'd I look?"

"Honestly, baby, you look like hell." Bobby saw the smirk on her face before she closed her eyes. He took hold of her left hand with his as he caressed her head with his right, much like she had done when she woke him up. "Tired?"

Alex nodded slightly then partly her eyes only briefly. "Stay."

Bobby leaned forward and kissed her temple. "I'm not goin' anywhere," he whispered into her ear but he knew she didn't hear it. She was already asleep.

It went like that for a few hours. Alex would wake up for a few minutes, they would kiss, and he would sooth her back to sleep. Bobby didn't ever go back to sleep. He stayed awake for the rest of the night until the sun streamed from under the blinds into the room. He had slid down the chair, with his legs over the bottom edge of the bed, and when he closed his eyes, he fell asleep.

That was how Alex's family found him a few hours later. Bobby was woken by the noise of the door shutting and it had startled him. He dropped his legs as he forced his eyes open to be blinking back at the foggy figures of John, Liz, and Junior. The terrible threesome, although John and John Jr. were finally coming around to him, Liz was still, well, Liz.

His neck was killing him but it wasn't as bad as his back when he went to stand. The spasm that went up his spine nearly sent him back into the chair. Rubbing at the tense muscles in his neck, Bobby motioned for John to take the chair he had been sitting in as he moved around the bed.

"How'd it go?" John asked as he sat down and looked at his daughter.

Bobby shrugged a little as he told him, his voice sounded like he had been screaming all night. It was barely audible. "She woke up a few times during the night, but the medicine's, um, she's still out of it."

"She was like that yesterday. Her doctor told us before we came up here that he's going to change it to a lesser dose gradually. She's on morphine now, so he doesn't want her to get addicted to it."

Bobby being winged off pain meds, he had been through it himself a few times. "I'm…" he had to pause because he forgot what he was going to say. "I'm gonna go get some coffee, anybody want anything?"

"I'll take one," Junior told him as he went to take out his wallet.

"I got it," Bobby told him as he stopped him. "Liz?"

Liz looked over at him and silently shook her head as she sat down in a chair by the bed.

Bobby noticed she had the same frown of worry that he had seen on Alex's face too many times as she watched over her sister. Turning back to Junior, he asked, "How'd you take it?"

"Black." Junior had been the most quiet of the Eames' since his sister had returned.

Bobby noticed that he had hardly spoken a word as to where Richard couldn't keep from talking. It still amazed him how differently they all were but yet the things that they all had in common where the most important. They all loved and cared for each other greatly, and he was starting to feel a little of love being directed toward him. As he left the room, he thought that it was the most terrifying feeling in the world because he didn't know what to do with it.

The hospital wasn't as busy as it had been the day before so the lines in the cafeteria weren't long. He got the two coffees and instead of heading right up to the room, he went outside and sat on a bench. Pulling out his cell phone, he sipped on his coffee as he waited for his captain to answer.

"Yeah, this is Captain Deakins."

"Captain, it's Goren."

"Hey, Bobby, how're you? Is Alex awake yet?"

Bobby felt a smile at Deakins concern for him and Alex. He was worried that he had damaged his captain's affection for him with what he told him two days ago. "She's awake, sort-of. Um, she's been out of it because of the morphine, but she's doing good." He took a larger drink from the coffee before saying, "The reason I called is because I'm not sure when the hearing is today."

"It's at one and it'll be here on the ninth floor."

The irony of the 'top-floor' and 'the brass upstairs' yet the office was actually below them always made him laugh. Bobby would have smiled into the phone except he was dreading the ninth floor and their decision. His entire future rested with those people and he didn't trust any of them. "I'll be there early, around noon. Will, uh…will you meet me in the hallway by the, uh, the vending machines?"

Deakins was silent as he seemed to be thinking about that before answering, "Sure. Anything you want to tell me now?"

"No."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

Bobby hung up the phone, got up, and made his way back to Alex's room. Upon entering the room, Junior got up from the chair he was in and took the offered coffee from his hand.

"Thanks."

He looked around Junior and saw that Alex was awake and looking more alert; that made him smile as he went around the bed to where John sat in the chair he had abandoned. Bobby took Alex's hand in his and gave a soft squeeze before asking, "Did the doctor change your medication already?"

"It's been a couple of days and he didn't want me to get dependent on the morphine. Also, he said that I might be able to go home tomorrow."

"As long as she has someone there to help her," John added before looking at him, "At that, I asked the doctor if he'd seen the amount of people in the waiting room yesterday."

Bobby chuckled as he let go of Alex's hand and found another chair that was sitting up against the wall under the window. He pulled it over to the bed, next to John, and sat down, keeping his eyes on Alex the entire time he did it.

She was watching him, but more importantly, she was watching him with her family. A look of thoughtfulness and amused confusion filled her eyes before she asked, "What happened while I was gone?"

Bobby knew what she was talking about, but had tease her about it first. "With what?"

Alex's eyes glared at him but there was no malice, just a twinkle of humor. "You know damn well what."

John looked over at him and said, "I think she's on to us."

Bobby nodded as he took a drink of the now warm coffee. "I-I think you're right."

Alex rolled her eyes, causing he and John to both start laughing at her amused frustration. Junior even cracked a smile at their expense. It was funny, but not that funny to him, but Bobby was used to the way a hospital room made some things that much more amusing when they weren't. On the other hand, it could be seeing the person lying in the bed getting better, or at least being alive, that made small jokes into big laughs.

"You're both on my list."

"Which list is that," Bobby asked seriously without a hint of humor in his voice or eyes.

"The one that ends in pain and misery," Alex verified for him, causing Bobby to smile wide.

"So," Alex said looking at him then her father. "You two are now buddies or something?"

John made a show of looking him over before telling Alex, "Why not, he did save you. That puts him at the top of my list, and it's the one that ends in family gatherings and a good bottle of whiskey."

Bobby felt the genuine acceptance from John and he couldn't think of anything to say or do just then. He leaned back in the chair and silently finished the coffee as he tried to understand what it was he was feeling. When he couldn't place it, he let it go and sat quietly while John, Alex, and finally Liz, started talking about something Bobby knew nothing about. It was a family issue that he had no business being a part of or hearing so he let his mind tune it out as his thoughts drifted to the approaching hours.

In four hours, he would be back at One Police Plaza but with an uncertain future awaiting him. He couldn't stop thinking about it or the letter he had written to Deakins. When he had written it, it had been with a calm resolve. He had been content with his decision because he knew he would be saving Alex's job by doing it. Now, he was even uncertain about her future as well. The brass could very well decide to fire her anyway and it would have all been for nothing. He wondered if John Eames would be inviting him to family gatherings then.

When someone asked him a question, Bobby would answer it but he didn't get involved with the conversation. For the rest of his time there, he remained distant and quiet, only talking when spoken too. He would catch Alex's eyes and he knew that she was worried. It was after Junior left, saying it was time for him to get ready for work, when Alex asked Liz and her father to excuse them. She wanted to talk to him alone.

Bobby immediately snapped out of his head and focused on her as he watched John and then Liz leave. The door slowly closed shut and he turned to her.

Alex was watching him with a reservation that he had only encountered in her one other time. It was after she had told him for the first time that she loved him. She had been afraid of his reaction then, and she was afraid of it now. "You got awfully quiet."

Bobby looked to the chair and debated if he wanted to get closer to her or not. Finally, his need to be closer to her won and he got up and then sat back down in the other chair that was right next to her bed. "Was thinking."

"I know. I'm worried as to what you were thinking about."

He had yet to tell her about their relationship being out and he had made everyone promise not to tell her. As he sat there looking into her lovingly concern brown eyes, Bobby realized that he was scared of telling her himself. They went to great lengths to keep it from getting out.

He never understood why some of their friends thought it would be better for it to be out in the open. For him, it was a nightmare. It was no secret in the department that the rumor mill had always circulated that the only reason Alex had remained his partner for all these years was because they were sleeping with each other. Now, for it to be a known fact that they were in a relationship, he could already envision the distance the squad is not only going to place on him but on Alex as well. If the distance only affected him, he could handle that. However, for Alex to receive any kind of disrespect was something he could not tolerate.

Bobby moved closer to the bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on it next to her left arm. He rubbed at his jaw as he looked her in the eyes and lied to her, "It's nothing. The, um, the hearing on the kidnapping is today. I have to talk to the brass about what, uh, what happened up in Canada."

That conversation was also one that they had to talk about, and he didn't understand why he would rather endure the multitude of shame and guilt that went along with it rather than just tell her the truth about the meeting.

"And you're worried about it?" she asked in disbelief, as if she had caught his lie.

Bobby rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fought off the urge to abandon the lie and quickly tell her the truth. He chose to ignore his conscious and he knew that would come back to haunt him. "Alex, um, my intentions…" he dropped his hand and looked at a spot above her head, unable to meet her eyes. "Wha-what I was going to do, it wasn't…honorable."

Alex was quiet but he could hear the increase in her heart rate and that was as telling as if she had yelled at him. "Bobby, it was a mistake, but…but it was one you didn't make."

"I would've, and that's just as condemning." Bobby finally looked away from the wall and stared at his hands that were twisting hard in his lap.

"Hey," she said as she reached out and grabbed a hold of his jacket. "Look at me."

Bobby didn't want to, but at that point, it wasn't up to him. He looked at her and nearly broke at the understanding he saw in her eyes.

"I…It was hard for me when you went missing. If I found the guy first, I don't know if I would have done the same, but…I can understand." Alex's eyes were starting to look hazy again as she yawned. "Sorry. I think the pain meds are kicking it 'gain."

Bobby took her hand and sat it back on the bed. "It's okay. Um, we can talk about it later okay."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know. The hearings at one, so…" Bobby trailed off as he looked at the time. He had to get going if he wanted to meet Deakins before the hearing.

He waited until she was asleep before leaving. Out in the hallway, he past John and Liz as he headed down the hall and then out into the cold afternoon air.

* * *

_The Lounge_

_Glen Oaks, Queens_

He wasn't sure how Elliot had found him, but he did. Bobby sat in the large bar around the corner of the hospital that been divided into two separate atmospheres, the sports bar and the lounge, by the creative use of a brick wall. He felt someone knock his arm as he sat down next to him on the stool to his left. Looking away from the TV in the corner of the bar above the alcohol bottles and next to the cooler with bottles of soda, he was shocked to see that it was Elliot Stabler.

Elliot didn't even acknowledge him until after he placed an order of a shot of Jack Daniels and a beer. "So, I hear congratulations are in order."

"Where'd you hear that?" Bobby asked as he turned his attention back to the TV. A college football game was on and although he wasn't particularly interested in it, he didn't want to keep looking at Elliot.

"Word gets around," Elliot said off-handily before he downed the shot and then pulled out his wallet to toss some money on the bar.

"Funny how word gets around. I bet a note was passed before study hall to get that one out."

Elliot chuckled as he took a sip off the bottle. "Have you told Alex yet?"

Bobby shook his head as he explained, "She's resting. Her doctor said she can go home tomorrow, so she's trying not to cause trouble 'till then." He then looked over at Elliot and asked, "What'd you hear exactly?"

Elliot smiled wide as he said, "That Alex gets to keep her job at Major Case. And once she gets off of medical, she can come back."

Bobby nodded as he turned back to the looking at the screen and the blur of the crowd as a football sailed through the air into the hands of the wide receiver. "And?"

"And what?"

Bobby looked at him with a little hesitation as he asked, "What'd you hear 'bout me?"

Elliot sat the bottle down and swallowed what was in his mouth as he looked at him. He had been watching him through the mirror behind the bar the whole time until now. "Just something about a transfer, but no one knows where to."

Bobby worked his jaw as he returned his divided attention back to the TV. He took a big drink of the glass of scotch in front of him. "They, uh, they wanted to fire her."

"What'd you do?"

"Told 'em I quit if they did. Then Deakins said something and I calmed down enough to give them my ultimatum. If they fired Alex, I'll quit. If they don't, I'll be the department's scapegoat and they can transfer me out and make an example of me."

Elliot was quiet as they both stared at the television but not actually seeing what was going on other than a lot of movement and cheering. Bobby realized that Oklahoma State scored a touchdown against the opposing team.

"Do you know where they're going to transfer you to?"

Bobby shook his head. "They said something at first 'bout demoting me back to Narcotics, but…I refused to even consider the possibility, and then they realized that I was too well-known now to be any good at the undercover work."

"But you did a demotion, right?"

Bobby downed the rest of his drink and slid it across the bar to the edge. He was finished. "Yeah, they did. I'm now back to being a Second Grade Detective."

Elliot was staring down at his bottle with what looked to be sympathy as he said, "Sorry."

Bobby slid off the bar stool and tossed some money down without counting it. It looked to be enough. "Not your concern. And, it could've been worse."

Elliot turned to face him. His blue eyes were set and stern as he gently asked, "You didn't talk to Eames about any of this, did you?"

Bobby shook his head and Elliot closed his eyes and sat back on the stool. He knew that look because he could already feel it coming. He was in deep trouble with Alex and once she learned what had transpired without her getting to voice her opinion, it would only get worse.

"Tell Eames I said 'hi', and that I'll be by her house tomorrow to see her. Olivia might come along if she can spare the time."

That took him by surprise and he silently asked Elliot his question.

Elliot downed the rest of the beer as he told him, "You're not the only one in the doghouse with the brass. I'm being investigated for shooting Anderson, and until the final report comes back from IA, I'm sitting tight, desk duty."

"It was a clean shoot," Bobby told him.

"I know, but it happened out of jurisdiction. You know how it goes."

Unfortunately, he did know. Bobby started to leave before turning back. "Uh, thanks, Elliot. For…for everything."

Elliot slid off the stool and followed him out. He placed his hand on his shoulder before dropping it. "Anytime."

* * *

_Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital_

The only person in Alex's room besides Alex when he arrived was Angie. She looked tired but was happy to see him as he softly opened the door and slipped into the room. Alex's older sister looked from him to Alex who was in the middle of telling a story when she stopped to look at who was coming into the room.

Bobby smiled at her as he shut the door. "Don't stop on account of me."

Alex looked at him for a long glaring moment before checking the clock. "It's almost midnight. Where've you been?"

Bobby saw that it must have been the cue for Angie to leave as she got up and left the room, but not before giving Alex a long hug and telling her that she loved her.

As Angie walked by him, she stopped and looked up at him. Leaning closer to him, she whispered to him, "Apologize."

Bobby started for the chair but he stopped himself when Alex's glare eased as she leaned back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She reminded him of him and it made him smile despite himself.

"Bobby, I can smell the alcohol on you all the way over here."

Bobby slid his jacket off and laid it over the chair. His tie was hanging out of the pocket and the top two buttons of his blue dress shirt had been undone in the bar. Swaying slightly, he waited to see if she was going to say anything else. When she didn't, he pulled the chair away from the bed as he sat down in it. "I had a drink with Stabler."

"For the entire day? It's been almost thirteen hours, Goren." The bitterness and anger in her voice took him by surprise. Alex had never before gotten angry with him when he went out for a drink.

He found himself getting angry at the fact that she was getting angry. Bobby rubbed a hand through his hair as he said with a sharp tone, "No, not for thirteen hours. The hearing lasted at least two."

"Eleven then?" Alex sat up and looked directly into his eyes. "I've been waiting for you to get back or call and you didn't do either of those."

Bobby couldn't stay sitting with that much anger, fear, and nervousness coursing through him. He got up and started pacing the floor as he rolled up his sleeves. The room was growing hot and he was starting to feel trapped. There was no excuse for not coming back, or for not calling, but he couldn't. He couldn't get himself to face her and to face the lie he had told her until after he had a few drinks, then a few drinks turned into more than a few hours of drinking, and then Elliot was there and talking to him.

He stopped his pacing as he stepped up to the window and stared out into the night. It had been morning and daylight when he had last talked to Alex. Turning, he came face-to-face with Alex's brown eyes. The eyes that he loved seeing every day since meeting her, and the eyes he had looked directly into as blatantly and purposely lied. Bobby couldn't get over or past that. Not until he got it off his conscious.

"We gotta talk." Thankfully, Alex didn't say anything as he stood before her and rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. It was time to dig his grave and throw himself into it. Bobby breathed out hard as he told her, "This morning, I lied to you. The hearing wasn't about, a-a, ah, about what happened in Canada. It was…Alex," he breathed out as he dropped his hand away from his face and closed his eyes. Running his hands over his head, he opened his eyes and told her, "It was…our, um, our relationship, it was…made public. To make sure you, um, that you kept your job, I…I, uh, sacrificed mine."

Bobby finally looked at her and when he did, he saw that dread and pain in her eyes. Alex was shocked and didn't know what to think or say. He shook his head as he continued, "I'm no longer with Major Case. I'm being transferred."

Glancing at the clock, he watched at the seconds ticked by. Then the minute had clicked to twelve.

TBC…


	19. Tuesday, October 19, 2004

**A/N:** Thanks again to all you wonderful readers and the reviews.

Also, on a more personal note, today, October 19th, is my mom's 50th birthday. So, this is for my mom who also shares my love of LOCI and Bobby, Happy Birthday!

Enjoy.

* * *

_Glen Oaks Memorial Hospital_

The silence made him more nervous than if she had actually yelled. Her face still showed shock as it was slack with no hint of emotion at all. Bobby had to look away, down toward the floor; his hands dropped from his head and neck and hung loosely at his sides, then they dug into his pockets moments before he pulled them out and started wringing them together. His anxiousness only caused the nervousness to increase. What seemed like hours to him was only a few short seconds, and then, he watched as it all clicked in her head and her face was no longer slack but tensed with anger.

Alex couldn't get out of the bed, but her hands shot around to her back so fast he was amazed that he didn't even register the pillow flying at him until it hit him square in the chest. He caught the second one and then the third before he heard Alex's strained, high voice ask him, "Do you want me to shoot you?"

Even in his drunken state, he knew well enough not to answer. Tossing the pillows back onto the bed at her feet, Bobby stood his ground and took all the anger she threw at him. To his surprise, it wasn't a lot.

She stared him down with that look that could kill and said simply, "How could you lie to me? It's been hours, Bobby, and you show up here drunk and tell me that you lied and that you're no longer my partner? How dare you."

He swallowed hard and looked to the floor but it wasn't helping him. Running his hand over his head and at his neck, he walked around the bed shaking his head. "I'm…"

"And don't say you're sorry. Sorry isn't enough."

Bobby dropped his hand and finally looked at her. "I wasn't. I'm not sorry, Alex. I lied by omission because they did want to take my statement about what happened in Canada. I just didn't tell you about our relationship being out. But it doesn't matter because I did what I had to do. "

"What you had to do?"

"Stop repeating me!" At his sudden outburst, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He knew that he was wrong in lying to her, but he also felt justified in doing what he had done. It was the only way even though it hurt like hell to do it. Opening his eyes, Bobby asked, "What could I have done, huh? What could you have done?" he nearly yelled again. He was too drunk for this conversation but if she wanted to have it out now, then so be it. "You were barely aware of anything last night. Then this morning you were just coming off the pain meds. You weren't…I didn't want to burden you the day you woke up to the fact that you might not have a job when you get out. I didn't plan on having our relationship plastered all over New York! I thought that at least the brass would wait until after you woke up and got off of medical leave before they scheduled a damn hearing but they didn't. It was only three days after we found you. Three! They wanted to fire you! I told them it was either I quit or the transfer, I took the transfer because I had to. So forgive me for giving a shit!"

"Bobby--"

"What'd you want from me?" Bobby asked as he walked over to the bed and gripped the back of the chair. "You want me to apologize for lying? It won't change the fact that I did. Do I feel guilty that I had to do it? Absolutely, but I don't regret the fact that you weren't burden with what I had to do for a single moment." He dropped his head to his chest and took a deep breath. The day's events were finally catching up to him and he was tired. "If you want to hate me, hate me, but…I won't apologize for doing the right thing."

The silence engulfed the room again and Bobby was certain that at any moment he was going to get thrown out by either Alex or security. He was sure that they heard him yelling clear to the top floor.

"You're right."

Bobby looked up at that soft declaration in confusion. He wasn't expecting her to agree with him.

Alex had her arms crossed over her chest but her eyes were somber and she was nodding. "What could I have done or told you to change your mind? Nothing, you would've done it any way. And, yes, I would have been worrying all day and night since you never called or came back."

"I called. I talked to the nurse to find out how you were. She said you were sleeping," Bobby mumbled even though he knew that it wouldn't matter.

"Okay, fine, you called, but you didn't call me." Alex set her eyes sternly onto his as she continued, "The point is you didn't even give me a choice. You left me completely out of the loop, omission or not, you deliberately lied to me. There are a lot of things you leave me out of, personal and profession, but I never really got too upset about it because none of it affected us. None of it had been something that directly interfered with our relationship, working or personal. This was something important not just to you but to me as well. What if I wanted to take the burden of the transfer? I'm senior partner and it should have been my decision, not yours."

"You weren't even awake until yesterday. You're not even healthy enough to be alone or able to--"

"I can still think!" Alex snapped at him. "I can still make a decision. If the brass couldn't come here and talk to me, we could have done it over the phone."

They were both silent for a moment as they looked at one another. Bobby was the first to blink and look away as he felt a little of his defiance slipping. His hands were aching and he realized that he was gripping the top of the chair so hard his knuckles were white. Letting go, he rubbed at the pain that throbbed his left hand as he stepped around the chair and sat down. The exhaustion that was slowing his movements and dying his anger was weighing down on him.

He raised his bowed head slightly so he could glance up at Alex. Her arms were still crossed and she was staring straight ahead at the blank television screen. Bobby was afraid of leaning forward so he could be closer to her and the bed for fear of her getting angry and telling him to stay away. He had spent the last week in total fear and he was getting pretty damn sick of it.

"Did you drive?"

The question was soft but he was able to make it out but since it had taken him by surprise, Bobby asked, "What?"

Alex turned to look at him and asked again, "Did you drive?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, but…y'know it's not far and I can always--"

"You're not driving home," she strictly told him.

Bobby waited to see if she was going to continue but she didn't. He simply nodded as he looked to the floor. "Kay, I won't." He then asked, "Wanna talk about--"

"No."

He heard the sharp tone in her voice and shut his mouth. Bobby rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands as he took in the silence and the anger he could feel rolling off Alex. It shook him and he was at a loss at how to stop it. He couldn't take the silence for long because he gave in and asked, "Are we, going to be okay?"

He heard her deep sigh and then he felt a hand run through his hair. Bobby closed his eyes to fully feel her touch as he leaned into it. A soft sound, like a moan but not, escaped his lips as he leaned all the way forward, resting his head on the edge of the bed. His eyes felt wet as he rubbed his hands over them and the urge to give into his grief nearly broke him. The muscles in his back started to quiver as his chest tightened. It felt like he was crushing into himself as his lungs ached for air.

Bobby tensed with fear at what was going on. His unwillingness to let go of his emotions and cry had lead him to anxiety, which in turn was causing him to have a panic attack. His hands gripped the bed as he tried to breathed deeply but couldn't, like a vise grip was pinned around his throat.

Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Alex's frantic voice calling his name. His vision was darkening as he stared desperately at floor as he struggled to get oxygen to his lungs. The shaking couldn't stop even as he felt arms wrap around him and pull him back hard against the chair. A bright light barely flashed through the darkness that was threatening his vision and then he felt a sharp sting in his arm.

His arm jerked out of the tight hold that had held it down and he bent forward again, toward the bed, as his throat opened and he was able to breathe again. As the blood returned to his head, it was pounded and throbbing so bad he could barely stand it. He closed his eyes and focused on the breathing and the not pain in his head and lungs as they filled with air.

It was then that he noticed that there was someone beside him, rubbing his back to help him breathe. Bobby looked up and stared at the face of a Latina woman that he recognized as Alex's night nurse.

"Are you okay?"

Bobby just nodded as he rubbed at his throat."

"You were having a panic attack. I gave you a shot, you should be fine now."

Bobby nodded again and looked away, over to Alex. She was sitting on the edge of the bed facing him. The sheet was off and he could see the horrible looking hospital gown that she was wearing. Her right hand was across her body and holding her left side as her left reached out to him and touched his cheek. He closed his eyes and took in a deep, calming breath before saying, "Sorry."

"I didn't realize you were that upset."

Bobby slowly willed his heavy eyelids open and looked at her. "Alex, I just had my entire life flipped upside down, and you hate me now. How could I not be upset?"

"I don't hate you," she told him as she reached for him with her other hand. Holding both sides of his face in her hands, she brought him forward and kissed him. When she ended the kiss, she told him, "Just because we argued, and disagreed, doesn't mean that I hate you. It just means that…that we need to work on some things so it doesn't happen again." She studied him for a moment longer before saying, "You're exhausted." She gestured over her shoulder. "The couch is okay according to my brother."

Bobby looked behind her to the couch and sighed. It was too sizes too small for him, but he would have to deal. Looking back to Alex, he moved forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him. She didn't push him away, or ended the embrace quickly, instead, she held him just as tight to her as he settled his racing heart along with hers. Eventually, he pulled away so she could lie back down. "You're not in pain, are you?"

Alex shook her head as he covered her with the blanket. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. The tears finally broke from her eyes as she closed them. "What're we going to do?"

Bobby rubbed the tears away with his thumb as he shook his head. "I don't know. Deal, I guess."

He watched her and waited until she fell asleep before going over to the couch and lying down. Staring up at the ceiling, with his right leg on the floor to stop the spinning in the room and his head, he hoped that they were, in fact, okay. He would have to see how she dealt with him in the morning to know for sure.

* * *

It was a busy morning. After a long check from her doctor, Alex was giving the okay to go home. Bobby had wanted to drive her home but his head was killing him and his car was still parked on the top floor of a parking garage down the block. John was already there with his car out front so it would be easier for him to just drive her, and for Bobby to follow.

A little after eleven in the early afternoon, a nurse came in with the last of the papers to sign and a wheelchair. Bobby helped Alex into the chair while John pushed it. It wasn't long before he was helping her into the car and then telling her he would be right behind them.

On the walk to his car, Bobby thought about the argument they had and what had been said. He was surprised that he remembered it all like it was a movie he had seen over and over again. The looks on her face, the tone of her voice, and every word that was said he remembered like it had just happened. He knew that this wasn't the end of it. They had both been so angry and tired last night that they had to let it go. He had known Alex for four years, and they had been together for almost half that, so he knew that once she was feeling rested and back to normal that it would have to be 'discussed'. They would have to have a 'talk about it'. The thing was, he was getting tired of having to explain himself or his actions, of about having to have to discuss something that was said and done and over with according to him.

In all his relationships in the past, none had gotten that far. There was no experience that he could draw from that would guide him in these situations. He had never had to have 'a talk' with any of his past girlfriends. In fact, they had never argued because it never gotten that far, no one had grown to resent him or his actions before they left him or he left them. Two years of being with the same person was a scary thought to him. That meant Alex had two years of his bullshit to get mad about, to resent, and to try and change.

He knew that he couldn't be changed, and he believed that Alex finally figured it out as well. With him, he was who he was and there was no changing that. He lied by omission plenty of times not only with her but his mother as well. There were things he held so close to his chest at no amount of prying or pleading could get him to open it up. There were just some things he felt he had to guard and protect against, not only for himself but for Alex as well, and he thought he had done that. He had thought he had done the right thing not to make her worry or fear that her future was over.

Hearing that he was wrong had unnerved him. Hearing that she had thought that he wasn't confident in her ability to make a decision really hurt. He felt the growing anger at not only himself but her too spark in his chest and he had to stop just inside the stairwell that led up the parking garage. The feelings that clenched his chest sent a sickness to the bottom of his stomach. He realized that he was the one that was starting to resent Alex and that sickened him.

Two years with her should have felt like a blessing, but he was starting to feel the exact opposite. Maybe two years was too long for him. Maybe he really couldn't be in a long term relationship because he couldn't let himself ever be happy or content with anything.

Maybe being with Alex had been the biggest mistake of his life?

* * *

_Alex Eames's Apartment_

Alex tried calling again but again his voicemail picked up. She cursed under her breath and snapped the phone shut. Her family was moving around her, going in and out of rooms and talking joyously to everyone while she sat reclined in her father's lazy-boy that he had brought to her house. He had told her that she would be more comfortable in it than on the couches.

It was a comfortable chair, and it did relax her. Her aunt that she hadn't seen in years was sitting on the sofa across from her with her sister Angie. To her right was her brother Richard and his wife Melissa and one of Angie's twins, she couldn't tell them apart because they were identical. She was sure it was Amber but wasn't a hundred percent certain. With all her family in the house and together celebrating that she was alive and well, she should have been happy. Instead, it all felt empty because Bobby hadn't shown up yet. He was supposed to be right behind them; that had been two hours ago.

"How're you holding up? Do you want another refill?" her Aunt Jane asked as she got up.

Alex smiled at the woman's concern but shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks. And no refill. I'm getting sick of water."

"I'll probably die if I had to give up sugar and caffeine for a week," Junior said as he sipped on his soda.

Alex gave him a death glare and he swallowed down hard and then excused himself from the room. She rolled her eyes at her brother and looked toward the front door. The sunlight shown through and then it went dark as someone stepped up to the door then opened it. When Bobby walked in, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and asked sharply, "What took you so long?"

Bobby stood perfectly still like a deer caught in the headlights. She realized that he had changed clothes and had shaved. The guilt she felt at being upset at him for his lateness faded. He had gone home to get cleaned up. Then she noticed that he was carrying bags of stuff on one arm and in the other there was a case of her favorite drink, Mountain Dew.

"I'll take that," Liz said as she stepped up to him to take the case of soda.

Bobby pulled back and glared at her. "It's for Alex."

"She can't have caffeine yet, not for a week."

Bobby looked down as the red crept up his neck before he told her, "It can wait a week," before he moved around her and disappeared out of Alex's sight.

The rest of the day went by in a blur to her. Her family was trying not to make her laugh with stories because it hurt too much, but she couldn't stop the laughing and chuckling even when a story wasn't that humorous. People would leave when they had to get to work or go to the store because something was forgotten, which occurred every fifteen minutes.

Bobby was the only thing that remained in a constant in her head because he barely moved when he was sitting down next to her, and he never spoke a word except in answering a question. Even then it was only a few words. There were no long drawn out explanations or information about subjects that he knew and no one else did. Junior had tried to get him into a trivia debate but Bobby wasn't biting. What he was doing was drinking, and doing a lot of it. She didn't want to count how many he had but she realized that she was. It also occurred to her that she wasn't the only one paying attention to how much he was consuming.

Her father was watching him as well and she felt her insides turn at that thought. It was no secret to her or the rest of the family how her father had a great dislike for alcoholics, and so did she. Bobby wasn't one, of course, but if her dad was watching him, then that made her nervous that maybe he was starting to think otherwise.

Alex reached down and lowered the recliner so she could sit up and get up. She had pushed herself up and was about to head toward her bedroom when Bobby stood to help her. "I'm fine," she waved him off. "I'm just going to my room; it's getting loud in her and my head's hurting."

"Oh," he said but he still remained by her side as she started to her bedroom. "Want me to get you some medicine?"

"Sure; they're in the kitchen." Alex watched as he slowly made his way to the kitchen before grabbing her father's arm. "Help me to my room, dad," she asked.

John helped her to the bedroom and to the bed where she sat on the edge of it and smiled over at him. "You need to stop what you're thinking about Bobby."

At that, her father's face nearly went red from embarrassment. "Was I that obvious?"

"Yes, you were. Look, he's stressing, okay. A lot has happened and…I'm not condoning it, but I know him and it's nothing to worry about. I drink too, and so do you."

"But not like that. He smelt of it when he first got here."

Alex didn't know that and it made the anger she had been feeling toward him being late grow in her chest. He had not only gone home but he had also either drank at home or stopped off somewhere. "Did he drive?"

John shook his head. "No, I checked. His car isn't here."

Alex just nodded as she saw Bobby coming down the short hallway. Her dad turned and saw him coming to and excused himself from the room.

Bobby watched him leave and then turned to her with a smile. Handing her a glass of water, he pulled her pills out of his pocket and dropped them into her open hand. In his left hand, he held the bottle of beer that was still cold and full. There had been nothing in his hands when she had told him to get her the pills.

"What?" he asked as if sensing that something was wrong.

Alex took her pills and drank about half the glass of water before asking, "How many is that?" She nodded toward the bottle as she tried to get comfortable sitting against the headboard of her bed.

Bobby looked down at the beer in his hand. "I'm not sure. I've had a few."

"And how many scotch's before you showed up?" Alex hadn't meant for the anger to spill out just yet, but she wasn't exactly in top form. If Bobby had been a suspect, she would have blown the interrogation with just two questions.

Bobby was studying her but answered with a curt, "A few." Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her. "What's this about?"

"You spent all day yesterday in a bar, drinking. You haven't been here for more than three hours and you're already drunk. What'd you think this is about?"

It was hard to read Bobby Goren on his best of days, and even on his worse, he was still the master at giving nothing away. His eyes held onto hers but she couldn't read what it was that shown through them and that irked her.

"It's not like I've got something better to do," Bobby calmly told her. "It's not like I'm on call. I won't know if I'm ever going to be on call again until Monday. They might just kick me all the way back to patrol." He took a long swallow of the beer as he turned away and looked out the door to her bedroom. "I'm here, aren't I? Trying to…to, relate, with your family. Trying not to acknowledge the feeling that maybe I don't belong here. That I'm not wanted. With the way your father was eyeing me…I'm starting to get that feeling."

Alex had no voice to even form a response to that. It had come out of nowhere and she didn't know what he was getting at. "What," she finally got out. "What're you talking about?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders slightly as he looked back at her. Still his eyes didn't give anything up. "I'm trying, okay. I thought that's what this was all about, me trying to be part of your family."

"Bobby, I'm not talking about you trying to be with my family. I'm talking about how you've changed," she stressed.

His eyes darkened as they narrowed at her. "I've changed?" he nearly yelled it into the room.

"Yes, you. I mean, when did you start smoking again? And the drinking, you've never let yourself get like this. You've always said that even though you're not on duty, you're still on duty. It's always good to have a clear head. In fact, I can't remember a day since we've been together where you've gone without having a drink."

Bobby was off the bed and pacing the floor, running his hand through his hair. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but there was never a day before we got together when I didn't have a drink, except when I couldn't."

"No, but you were never this excessive. One drink is fine; maybe two, but you're exceeding your limit--"

"I just got demoted, Alex! I'm no longer you're partner anymore! And I feel like drinking so that's what I'm going to do! I'm not a fucking alcoholic."

"I'm not saying you are, at least not yet. All I'm saying is you're letting to get out of hand, it's become a crutch." She was close to getting angry and start matching him yell or yell but the pain meds were kicking in and plus her family was right down the hall.

Curious, and afraid, she looked around Bobby's body and saw several people, Junior and her father included, looking her way. "Christ," she muttered under her breath before looking up at Bobby.

He was looking down the hall too before turning back, but instead of looking at her, he moved around the bed and sat down heavily in the rocking chair she had in the corner. Bobby was silent for a long time as she watched him. His hands were flexing around the bottle as he stared at the floor. She felt the same embarrassment and anger he was and she wished he would have closed the door before sitting down, and she didn't feel like getting up to do it.

"I'm trying to quit smoking."

She almost didn't her his soft voice because she was focused on her own thoughts. Looking over at him, she met his eyes that were back to being unreadable.

"I've gotten down to only smoking half of one at a time."

"You know how addictive that sounds?"

Bobby blinked at her question before answering, "I am addicted, and it makes me obsessed. I can't help it; it's my personality."

It was true; she had known how addicted and obsessed he could get with work or a hobby of his. He would get so focused on it and there was nothing that could pull him away from doing it or getting it done. It was one of the things about his personality that never bothered her because she was equally as obsessed with the job as he was. But now, having him starting to get that way with smoking again and the drinking, it was making her nervous. "It's not healthy," she told him.

Bobby slowly nodded but remained quiet. He looked around the room, and then toward the door. "I-I, I think it'll be best if I left."

She saw the signs of his discomfort and felt remorse for being one of the people that put it into him. She didn't know what her family was thinking, but it couldn't be anything good since they just witnessed a fight between them that could have waited or been avoided all together. It was just that lately she was starting to feel like they were drifting apart and it was scaring her. They had been together for almost two years and it was now--before, during, and after her kidnapping and almost death--that they were pushing and fighting against one another.

Alex finally nodded a little; she couldn't believe it as she agreed. "I think you're right, maybe you should leave. I'll call you later," she added after he stood up and headed for the door.

She had to tell him that she would call because for the first time since being with him, she wasn't sure if he would.

TBC…


	20. Wed & Thur October 20 & 21, 2004

**A/N:** Thank you everyone again for your reviews! Okay, it's getting to where I'm going to be extremely busy and gone this November and December for the holidays and I have no idea when I will be able to sit down and write until after the new year. So, I decided to hurry this up by combining these two chapters into one. After this chapter, there is one more and it will be an epilogue of the first chapter to the next story.

Enjoy!

* * *

He didn't know what to do. That was the worst thought and feeling in the world for him. It wasn't only the not knowing what to do until he was off suspension and told where his new job would be, but also that he didn't know what to do about himself, and with Alex…with their relationship.

She had called him yesterday, after everyone had left, and they talked for a while but it felt strained and almost forced. He wasn't in the mood to talk, and she was still angry and bitter. She had done most of the talking while he sat and listened as he felt the walls start to cave in on him. That was what it was feeling like to think that it was all coming to an end, claustrophobic.

He didn't know what to do yesterday when he left her house, so he went home and walked the floors as he thought about what was said and what they could do to save this sinking ship that they were on, but he couldn't think of anything because he was being blinded by his own fear. He was deeply afraid of two things: of them staying together only to hate each other more, or ending it now and regretting it later.

There was no happy medium. No thoughts or feelings that they could work it out and have it be a good thing. He feared that too much damage had been done. That they jumped the gun in getting together and it was only now that the ramifications of that decision were catching up to them.

Once he got tired of walking the floors he had left and walked the neighborhood, stopped at a bar for a few drinks, and then walked back home. It was all he could do. The thought of calling Lewis or even Elliot crossed his mind but he didn't feel like talking. He didn't even feel like thinking. He didn't feel like he wanted to feel and so he stopped. He had gone home and fell asleep and didn't get up until well into the afternoon.

He had spent the day barely functioning as he checked the messages Alex had left on his home phone and cell. He had called Carmel Ridge to keep with his promise of calling but his mother didn't say much to him and he didn't say much to her. The rest of the day and into the night he tried to occupy his mind by reading and jogging on his treadmill; he then watched as the Boston Red Socks beat the New York Yankees ten to three to win the championship series and go to the World Series.

He was halfway through a bottle of scotch that would hopefully allow him to sleep that night when he heard a knock on his door. It was the front door and that gave him pause as he muted Boston's celebration at Yankee Stadium on the TV and got up. Looking through the peephole, he saw that it was Alex.

Bobby quickly opened the door and stared at her in confusion and near panic. "Are you okay?"

Alex looked up at him with the same confusion. "Of course. Can I come in?"

He stepped away and pulled the door open wider to let her in. "Let me take your jacket," he said as she slipped it off and handed it to him. As Bobby put it on the coat hanger, he looked out onto the street and watched as the taxi pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street. "What're you doing here? Where's, um…Angie?" He knew that Angie had stayed with Alex at her house to help take care of her.

Alex had moved into the living room and was standing face him while he shut the door as she told him, "She's at home. I told her it was okay and that I was coming here."

Bobby had locked the door and double-checked the alarm before moving towards her. "When was that?"

"This morning," she said as she looked around the darken room.

The only light was coming from the muted television. Bobby looked at it briefly before turning back to her. "You need to sit down," he told her as he went to move the blanket that was on the couch out of the way.

"I'm fine. I've been sitting down for days."

Bobby eyed her and shook his head at her stubbornness. "What're you doing here?" he asked again, realizing that she didn't answer the question the first time.

Alex looked at him before scratching at her head. She did that when she was nervous about talking about something, much like him and rubbing his neck. "I tried calling, you didn't call me back."

Bobby nodded a little, knowing where this was leading. She wanted to have a talk, about them. He needed a drink. The glass that he had been drinking out of was empty so he picked it up off the coffee table. "We'll talk in the kitchen. I was about to heat up some food. Want anything?"

Alex didn't answer but he knew she was following him.

He didn't feel like cooking anything so he took a couple of frozen pizzas out of the freeze and put them in the ovens. "Want anything to drink?" Bobby asked when the silence from Alex had gotten to be enough.

"No, I'm good." Alex was watching him and that made him become overly self-conscious to his appearance. The only thing he had on was a pair of sweats over his boxers.

"Um, let me go get a shirt on," he muttered as he left the kitchen and headed to his room. Bobby quickly grabbed a shirt out of the drawer without looking to see which one it was, it didn't matter, and pulled it on as he returned to the kitchen.

Alex was still sitting at the table and her eyes returned to his as he entered the room. She smiled a little as she pointed to the shirt, "I got you that."

He looked down and sure enough, it was the gray Yankees shirt she bought him when he took her to a game. "They lost tonight to Boston."

Alex smirked. "I know." She then sighed heavily and said, "I can't believe it."

Bobby looked at her and waited for her to tell him what she couldn't believe.

"We've been together two years, and you're getting cold feet."

"I'm not getting cold feet," he meekly protested because he thought that maybe he was. Bobby thought about that as he refilled his glass; putting the bottle of scotch on the counter by the stove, he turned to her and said simply, "You could be right, maybe I am, and…I don't know what to do about it."

Alex looked at him as if trying to decode a foreign language. Finally, she shook her head. "Neither do I."

They looked at each other for a moment, both realizing that they were each at a loss at how to salvage this mess they called a relationship. Bobby had hoped she knew what to do because he didn't have the slightest idea at where to start. He had never been in this situation before and it was killing him to figure out the right and best thing to do and say. In the end, he chose not to say anything. They would just talk and see where it led to, either a mutual understanding or another fight.

Silence took the place that had once been filled with easily talk and banter with one another. Bobby tried to ignore it as he waited for the food to cook. The quiet in the house stretched on as neither one of them spoke as they sat at the table eating.

"How long is your suspension?"

Bobby shrugged. "It wasn't specified. They can call me tomorrow or next month, a year." His cynicism was even making him bristle. He tried to calm it by taking another drink of the scotch.

"Why don't you take a vacation? Now would be the perfect time to do it. Give you time to think, put things in perspective."

As Bobby thought about what Alex told him, he sipped on the glass that was getting empty really fast. "Firstly, I do have things in perspective. The only thing I want to do is work. It may not be where and whom I want to work with, but I have to work, do the Job. Secondly, I don't have anywhere to go."

"Why don't you visit Gage? "

Bobby shrugged while saying, "He lives in Virginia."

Alex said simply, "So."

"It's…" Bobby rubbed at his forehead as he thought about how to explain why he was reluctant with seeing his mentor. "Look, me and Dec, we're good friends, very close, but…it's hard to be around him sometimes. Now would be one of those times." He didn't want to tell her about how Declan could guilt-trip him just as bad as his mother could. If he had told her that, then he would have to tell her why.

Alex hadn't voiced her need to know more, but he could see it. She was still looking at him and slowly drinking her wine and giving him that 'tell me more, you owe me' look.

Bobby lowered the now empty glass back to the table, twirled it around a few times, and then grabbed the bottle off the counter next to him. After re-filling the glass, he told her, "Okay," before his voice lowered and he leaned forward on the table. "Dec wanted me to join the FBI when I got out of the Army. I guess he saw me as his protégé."

Alex seemed confused as she asked, "He's mad at you for not joining?"

Bobby rubbed at his jaw then reached for the glass and took a drink. "No, I did. I went through all the testing and everything. I wasn't, uh…accepted, 'cause I failed a test." When she just raised her eyebrows with that silent question, he answered, "The psych exam."

She was more confused now than before, except this time there was no amusement. "How? You passed the police--"

"Alex, that's because the test to get into the NYPD isn't as, uh…as thorough and, strenuous, as the FBI's." Bobby shifted on the chair as she shook his head. "Anyway, he was disappointed in me and he stopped speaking to me for about a year. Now, I don't know…he's always bringing it up whenever I seem to fall short of his expectations. I can't, explain…I mean, I trust the man with my life, and he has my complete confidence, it's just…he can be too much."

"Are you still looking for his approval, even now?"

Bobby was taken back by that question and how see knew that he had been looking for it. He found himself nodding before he could catch himself and then the words came out, "Yes, I am."

"Don't you think you need to get over it?"

He stilled as his eyes narrowed onto hers. "What'd you know about it?" he snapped at her. The shock on her face registered in his head and he quickly looked away and mumbled an apology. Picking up the glass, he downed the rest of the scotch and looked around for the bottle; he didn't remember where he put it.

The silence in the kitchen stretched on and it was starting to make him sweat with fear that he had royally screwed things up again. Bobby was re-filling his glass and about to get up when she grabbed his hand.

Alex squeezed it slightly as she told him, "You want to know why my family was so hard on you? And why Liz is still having a hard time liking you?"

Bobby was afraid to open his mouth and say something completely inappropriate, so he sat and waited for her to tell him what she thought the reason was.

"Before Joe, I dated guys who were the bad boys, I guess. None of them were any good for me because all of them got into trouble either with the law or my father. It caused my dad to became not only furious with me, but start to think that I had absolutely no good judgment when it came to men. And, of course being young, I was furious with my father based solely on the fact that he was my cop father."

"And you followed in his footsteps," he said with a teasing smirk.

"Yes, I did, and I always knew I would. I just had to be a pain in the ass."

They both smiled at that but with Alex, it was both a frown and a smile. Bobby had always thought that when she smiled that way it was because she could see both the humor and the sadness at the same time.

"Then, I met Joe," she continued, "and even though he wasn't perfect, he was a good guy, and he was perfect for me. And, yes, my family loved him. Alex waited until he looked back up at her. It was hard for him to keep looking into her wounded eyes; he kept feeling her pain and it was nearly killing him. "After he died, I think I was afraid to love again, and to fall in love again, especially with a cop. So, I found myself being afraid, which caused me to start dating the wrong men again, men who were cheaters or married or unable to commit."

Bobby flinched at that and lowered his eyes again; he softly and gently told her, "I'm, unable to commit."

Alex was quiet only briefly before telling him, "You can commit. You've been doing it with me, kind-of. You just have the absurd notion that I have to have a ring on my finger for it to count."

That took him by surprise because he had never thought of it like that before. His whole life he had been afraid of commitment because he thought it meant to be married. He wasn't married to Alex, but she was right. He was committed to her. And she was to him, but that didn't mean it was right, or that they were right for each other. He could still very easily be the wrong man for her.

Bobby tilted his head as he told her, "You still love Joe." She opened her mouth to protest when he cut her off, "It's okay. I understand, and…uh, I'm used to being second."

"You're not second."

Bobby smiled a little at her defiance at trying to contradict him. "I said I was fine with that. Look, we know that…that I can't give you all of me. So, why should I expect that from you? I can't, not when you're not ready to be completely over him. And, I don't think you ever will." He studied her for a moment as the words sunk in and she knew they were true, they both did. "There's absolutely nothingwrong with that. _Nothing_, understand?" At seeing the confliction and grief well in her eyes, he had to find a way to bring it back onto him, so she wouldn't think it was her fault. It would never be her fault. "I know that he had you in so many ways that I can never have you…I'm, not…I'm unable to let myself be…reliant, on anyone other than myself."

"You can with me if you just try."

"No, I can't. Too much damage has been done, Alex. I'm not like a lot of people. Most men long for a family, a marriage and children; or a partner to share their lives with. I don't. I long for…for understanding, and for justice and the truth. I long to do what I'm doing now and that's to be a detective and a profiler, nothing else." Bobby looked surprised at her and wondered why she could never see him for him. Why she put so much stock into what he could be instead of seeing who he was. It made him angry and he didn't know why. Maybe because he felt that she was wasting her time with him by believe he could be someone he was not and could never be. "I've told you this before, Alex. You just don't listen to me. It's like you can't accept what I'm telling you to be the truth. Why can't to accept that I'm not going to change?"

"Bobby--"

"Alex, just listen to me, okay? Just listen to what I'm telling you." He moved forward in the chair so he could be closer to her. His voice lowered with the closing of distance between them as reached out and took her hands. He held them tightly against his chest as he told her, "You're going to get sick of me."

"No, I'm not."

Bobby had always loved her stubbornness, but not when it contradicted what he knew to be true. They all got sick of him and left. It was the nature of the beast, and half the time he was the beast that pushed them away. "This," he shook his head and closed his eyes. He was unable to meet hers and he had no idea what she was thinking. "This is all we'll ever have. I can't afford the kind of dependence and vulnerability you want from me. Like I said before, there will be no marriage, no living together, no children. Alex, I think, for me, being a father would be like someone holding a gun to my head for the rest of my life."

"Why do you think you'll feel that way over caring for a child?" she asked stunned by his confession.

"Because, I know that, that my dependence on a child would be greater than the child's dependence on me. If anything and I mean _anything_, ever happened to my child, my life would be over; maybe not physically, but mentally and emotionally, spiritually, I would die. It sounds crazy, I know, but I can't help the way I feel. I would rather be alone than live with that constant fear and pain and knowledge that it could happen." Bobby felt shame creep up his neck. He couldn't believe he had just told her that. He never told anyone that.

Alex must have picked up on his feeling because she quietly told him, "You didn't have to tell me that."

Bobby was confused. She had always got on him, yelled at him for not opening up and telling her things, and when he did, she told him that he didn't have to. Shaking his head, he struggled as he told her, "I wanted you to know. No one, not one other woman, has ever gotten in…deep, with me. It causes me to worry sometimes, and mostly about you."

"Why?" she asked, whispering to him.

"Because, I know how screwed up I am. I know how I can be. This isn't half of it. I…I should come with a warning sign around my neck."

Alex looked into his eyes for a long time. Then, she told him, "I know how you can be. I know how you can act before you think. Remember the time you nearly threw yourself off a building to prove a guy was a psychopath?"

"Exactly, what if the guy didn't catch me, what if my hand slipped? Sometimes, I don't think, I just react. I don't stop at anything to prove a point."

"Are you trying to scare me away?"

"I'm just trying to warn you…I-I, uh…I told you yesterday that I obsess, right? Well, I obsess over you. You drive me absolutely crazy and it scares me. Think about everything I've done for you, or because of you. I went to Canada to kill a man over you, and you weren't even dead. It didn't matter to me if he was armed or not. I felt nothing for him and I would have done it."

"Bobby," she breathed out against his face because they were so close to each other that they were breathing each other's air. Their voices were whispers they were so close. "I told you that I understood."

"You shouldn't. I don't want you to understand, not that. Not the fact that I could have murdered a man and feel nothing while I did it. I want you to tell me that it was wrong. Tell me what you really feel and think. What did you think of me when you saw that I was moments away from committing murder?"

Alex was silent, unable to speak, but she told him everything. She couldn't voice what he saw it there. It was anger, sorrow, and pained resentment. "I can't."

Bobby nodded slightly as he told her, "It's okay, you already did." Then he asked, "Would you have backed me?"

She took a deep breath that shook her chest before answering, "Only to keep you from losing everything, but you would've lost me…" she trailed off as it clicked in her head. Bobby could see it in her eyes when it did. In disbelief, she pushed him away. "Oh, my God. You wanted it to happen, didn't you? You wanted me to leave you."

Bobby shook off the shame at the truth in that before saying, "Yeah, I did. If I had done it, I wouldn't want you to be with me after something like that. That's what I'm getting at. Our relationship, Alex, it seems that instead of-of, of bringing out the best, in me. It's actually brought out the worst. Two years ago I mentally raped a man because I thought he killed you. Now, I came so close to blowing another's man head off without giving a second thought about it. How…how can I expect us to stay together when it's getting so fucked up? What could you possibly want from me now?"

"It hasn't gotten that messed up. You didn't do it, and…What I want? I want just you, I always have."

Bobby stared at her in his own disbelief; the concept of so foreign to him he couldn't believe it. "No on wants just me. I'm not that good. They want what I can give them. When there's nothing left, I get left. So don't tell me that. Tell me the truth. What do you want from me?"

Alex was getting angry as her lips went stern and her ears turned red. She had her tells and he was pushing her, but he couldn't stop. "The only thing I want from you, besides you, is for you to grow comfortable with me. To love me the way I love you, and for you to be part of my family. To know that you are a part of a family, and you can be happy. Instead, I'm finding out that you can't be happy, can you? You won't allow it. And I thought," she had to clear her throat before continuing, "I thought all that had changed. You were trying. I don't understand how you can go from being concerned one day, and actually going to my father's house to talk to them, and then the next day, it's like you could care less if you ever talked to them again."

"I didn't do it for them, I did it for myself, so I wouldn't feel guilty over not talking to them," as soon as he said it, he regretted it.

It looked like he had smacked her right across the face. Alex stared hard at him and it seemed as if for the first time she was clearly seeing him for who he was. She got up from the table and walked away from him in anger and frustration. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said "You've go to be kidding me. I can't believe…You have a complete lack of regard for anyone other than yourself. I thought, I mean, how I could I have--"

"Have what?" Bobby snapped as he stood and stepped closer to her before backing off. "Could have fallen in love with me?" His anger was now growing too, but it wasn't at her. He was furious with himself. At the moment, he really did hate himself.

"You're a child, Bobby, an arrogant, selfish, little boy. And you know what your problem is?" Alex went over and picked up the bottle of scotch off the table. "This is half of it. The other half is you." She then proceeded to pour the entire bottle in the sink.

Bobby was momentarily shocked at her sudden burst of anger before his own anger kicked in. He looked away and went over and opened a cabinet above the stove. Taking another bottle out just to spite her, he acknowledged her by agreeing, "You know what? You're right; you figured me out." He twisted the cap off the bottle and tossed it into the sink. He knew that his rage worked opposite of his anger. When he was angry, he yelled. When he was beyond angry and was on the verge of rage, he grew quiet and his voice dropped low and he seemed in control until he broke. "So, why don't you just leave me already? Why don't you go 'head and re-enforce all the…the imperfections that make me so hard to be with. Leave me like everyone else and solidify the fact that I've tried to ignore since I _was_ a child. That I-I'm unworthy and unlovable."

"Bobby, right now, you're making it very hard for me to defend you," Alex calmly said as she slammed the empty bottle on the counter. She was easy to read; her anger built and built until she finally went off. She was getting close.

"I don't need you to defend me. Come on, look at me. Wh-what'd I have? There's nothing worth defending. All I have is my job."

"You've got me, or you did until ten seconds ago."

"No I didn't. I've never had you, and I never will. I just told you, I'm always going to be second."

"That's not fair," she said as she pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Don't make me feel guilty--"

"What guilt?!" his sudden outburst made her flinch. Bobby's eyes felt hard even to him as he glared at her. "The only person that should feel guilt in his room is me. What gave me the audacity to think that I actually had a chance at being with you?"

"You--"

"Me what?" he asked as he stepped closer to her, dropping his voice lower. "What? Tell me. Say, it."

She crossed her arms and shook her head refusing to finish what she was going to call him.

Bobby stepped back and pointed to the door. "Good-bye, Eames." He didn't even flinch as she walked the two feet that separated them and her hand slapped his face. The pain that swelled the left side of his face was nothing compared to the pain that shattered his heart. Then she tried to do it again but he grabbed her arm and held it tight.

"I don't need this coming from you. Not you," she grounded out. "Fine, you want me to hate you," she emphasized her anger by pushing him with her free hand. "To leave you," she pushed again. "Then make me. Hit me back and then go screw another woman."

He felt the break in him at the thought that she would actually say that he was like his father. The burst of rage that clouded his judgment scared him as he shoved her away. It was so hard that she nearly fell onto the stove. "Don't say that? Don't try to get me to be like him!"

Alex looked frightened but blinked back in surprise at the amount of anger that had risen in him so quickly. "Who? Your father? I don't know, about that, but what I do know is that in the last tem minutes you've done nothing but show me how much of a narcissistic son-of-a---"

He was gone. He saw red as he threw the bottle that was in his hand. It shattered against the wall over the sink and Alex's words cut off like he had thrown it at her. The last time he had felt that break with someone else in the room, it had been his brother he had been arguing with. If it had been his brother, he would have hit him, and then he would have to listen to his brother tell him that he had anger issues. That he needed to let go of the anger and spite he still held for their dead father.

His hands clenched and pulsed at his sides until he picked up a chair and swung it toward a wall. The chair splinted and broke at the impact and then fell to the floor. Bobby stared down at the broken pieces of wood as he took in gulping deep breaths. Unable to meet Alex's eyes and unwilling to see the fear in them, he quickly covered his mouth and closed his eyes. He had to leave the kitchen and fast. He opened his eyes slightly, shook his head once, and then left the kitchen. He didn't stop moving until he got to his study and with a solid push on the door, slammed it shut. The sound echoed in the silence of the house.

Bobby collapsed in the chair at the desk and buried his pounding head in his hands. There was no excuse for what he did. He was out of control. Alex was right; his behavior hadn't been a recent change that started with her being taken. Over the last two years, he had been getting worse. He just couldn't or wouldn't allow himself to see it.

Instead of dealing with his anger back when it first started to get out of hand, he had let it go. There was a point of no return and he was afraid he had crossed it. It took her being strip from him to bring it forth and devour him.

His hands were shaking against his face as his body shook. It wasn't from sadness or anger, but fear. He was deeply afraid of losing control again and not stopping himself from hurting the person he loved. Tonight, he had been close. The rage in him had broken and he came close to lashing out at her but at the last second grabbed the chair instead.

There was no living with that kind of guilt. Bobby dropped his shaky hands and stared at the dark floor. He didn't want Alex to have to tiptoe around him for the rest of her life like he had to do with both his parents. He shook his head. Like she would, Alex would beat him to the ground first before she let herself feel intimidated by him.

Bobby leaned back in the chair and stared into the darkness of the room as he thought about all that had happened. He sat there for almost three hours before leaving the room.

* * *

Alex was still there. She was in his bedroom asleep on the top of the bed. It looked like she had been crying and that tore his heart out. Bending down, Bobby shook her awake. "Alex, wake up. I'm driving you home."

Alex stirred in her sleep. Her eyes blinked up at him and she asked groggily, "You're driving me home now?"

"Yeah, come on."

Alex sat up and stared at him in the dark. "Bobby, it's three in the morning."

Bobby didn't argue bout the time, he knew it was three in morning. He left the room and pulled on his jacket and grabbed hers off the hanger went back into his room. "It's best if you went home," he told her as he handed her the jacket.

Alex didn't say anything as she took it and put it on.

The drive through the streets was silent. Bobby never did like driving the interstate to Rockaway; he enjoyed the neighborhoods he drove through, the diversity of them and the shops and stores that lined the streets.

Bobby knew that she wanted to say something to him; he could feel her reluctance as it mixed with his own. He took a glance over at her. She was in deep thought, staring out the window that she leaned against, as her right hand covered her mouth. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alex looked over at him then but she still refused to talk.

"I, I need to know how, how you--"

"I feel like hitting you, that's how I feel. I spent hours in your bedroom crying and thinking about how much of a jerk you can be. I was thinking about us, and what we can possibly do to turn this thing around. And you know what? I've come to realize something I should have notice before, and why maybe it's a good idea that we weren't together, at least not right now."

Bobby stopped at a red light and stared straight at it. They were only a block away from her apartment but he didn't know if he could make it that far. His hands tightened on the wheel as he asked, "Uh, what's that?" The light turned green and his tires spun as he hit the gas.

Alex seemed to ignore his driving as she calmly told him, "You have to push yourself. It's what you do. And I'm not talking physically, but emotionally, and mentally. You have to push and push until you can't push anymore, until you either break or the person you're pushing against." She went quiet as he pulled the car up next to the curb and put it into park.

Bobby sat silently as she tore him apart. He took it because he had no choice, and because he deserved it.

"You pushed me tonight too. I know it wasn't on purposes, but it won't change that if happened. You need me to trust you, to show you my trust, and when I give it to you, you don't return it."

"Alex--"

"I trusted you," she continued, ignoring him. "I trusted you not to push me, but you did and you did it without a single thought to my feelings."

"Alex--"

"How could you," her sharp voice snapped, cutting him off again. "It's like you don't understand how your actions and your words impact people, especially me." She took a breath and he didn't attempt to open his mouth. "You ignored my limitations and my boundaries and nearly forced me to break right along with you."

He finally turned his head and looked into her dark eyes that were welled with tears and pain. Swallowing hard, Bobby had to look away. He was more than ashamed with himself; he didn't want to have anything to do with his own self anymore.

"I've seen you do it with suspects, criminals, but I never thought for a moment that you would do it to me."

"Alex," Bobby said as his voice broke. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know if anything will ever be enough for me to forgive you." She fell quiet again for a long moment. The silence was suffocating. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Bobby could barely speak as the guilt, shame, and anger with himself was crushing his throat. It hurt to breathe and his jaw was so tense it took all the strength he to get out what he had been thinking for the last four hours. "I…I'm, not good for anybody right now, certainly not you."

Alex was holding her head and staring at the floorboard of the car. "I think you need to talk to someone."

Bobby watched as she looked over at him and they stared at one another in the darkness. If there was ever an opening, this was it. "I'm a coward. I've ran away from every relationship that had ever gotten serious. I mean, take a good look at me, Alex, I-I'm exhibit A of what a man's like growing up with a narcissistic father and a schizophrenic mother."

"Bobby--"

"Alex, just…listen. Okay? You've always wanted to know, so now I'm telling you." Bobby looked away from her, and stared out the window as he tried to keep from getting into the urge to shut-up or tell her something that would make her leave him. "I guess, you can imagine what it was like living with my mother, she scared me more than my father did. He was predictable, she wasn't. One day she would be convinced that the Soviets were trying to turn her into a spy for them and they were implanting devices into the phone, TV, and her head. Then, the next, she was God's avenger, and I was an evil demon. At one time, she swore that she was Jesus because to her it was the only logical explanation as to why the Bible's words were seeping into her blood and why she could hear the angels talking to her and no one else. She invaded and destroyed every sense of privacy, and security I had. In between all the delusions, there were weeks, even months, were she wouldn't talk at all. I remember getting angry at her for not speaking, for not talking to me, for not acknowledging that I existed that I became so desperate to hear her voice again that I didn't care if she was yelling at me. I eventually got used to the silence and of being alone, of having to take care of myself. I eventually got used to not having a mother."

Alex tried to reach for him, but he jerked away from her. He wouldn't be able to continue if she touched him.

Bobby shook his head as he breathed out into the thick air. "I never had a father either," his voice nearly broke at that as he moved around in the seat, trying to get comfortable but couldn't. "He was…cruel to me by giving me nothing but…indifference. When he drank, he showed me, hostility, and anger. When I was six years old, he took me and Frank to Harlem to see these great ball players and afterwards, when I was trying to tell him how happy I was that he finally took me somewhere with them, he said…" he closed his eyes at the memory. "He said, "how can anyone _stand_ you, how can _anyone_ put up with you' then he told me to shut-up and go to my room and stay there until he gave me permission to come out." He opened his eyes and looked over at Alex. "How can a father say that to their child?" He wasn't expecting an answer, and she didn't offer him one. "Not once did he ever tell me he was proud of me. For years, I-I thought this was my fault. I had no one to tell me otherwise. No one ever came to bat for me or defended me. Whenever I voiced an opinion, I was wrong. Whenever I thought something was right, I was defied and told it wasn't. If I contradict my father, on anything, he would hit me and tell me that I didn't know what I was talking about. He even did it when I told him how scared I was of my mother and how something was wrong with her. He denied it and ignored what was going on so long that it wasn't until I was an adult that my mother finally got the help she needed."

"Bobby--"

He looked over at her again and shook his head. "I couldn't trust them; not their actions, or their words. I couldn't even trust what I was feeling because they undermined me at every turn. I found myself not being able to trust anyone, not even myself for a long time." Bobby looked back out the window and waited until his head stopped pounding. "My point is…I've been alone and on my own not being able to trust anyone for forty-three years." Turning to face her, he said, "I don't know how to undo the damage my parents caused. I don't know how to talk to you, or relate to what and how you feel. All I know of human behavior is based on years of studying it, of profiling criminals and their motives, of trying to understand what makes a criminal tick. Everything that I have drawn experience from is all bad. I'm a cynical man, Alex. I can't see good in anyone when all I've been trained and conditioned to do is see the bad. With our relationship, all I see is the bad. All I think about is how it's going to end, and all I feel is guilt and pain and fear and shame. I don't feel happy. I don't remember a time ever feeling happy. It's not your fault, and it's not because of you. It's me. It's the fact that…that, even when I'm with someone, I'm not with them. Even when I'm with you, I feel alone. I feel like there's an empty void and nothing on earth can fill it. How…how can you live with that? How can you be with me knowing that you can never make me fill whole and happy? What's the point?"

Alex was silent as they once again stared at one another. She shook her head and said, "I honestly have no idea what to say." Her mascara was smeared down her cheek from the tears that fell from her eyes. "Do you want to end this?"

Bobby shook his head. "I do…but, I don't. I told you, I'm a coward and right now, I'm running scared. I've never been with anyone for this long before and it's starting…I think I'm getting to hate you and I have no idea why. I'm…I'm scared that I know too much about you, and that you…you aren't going to be happy with me and I'm furious that I can't change that."

Alex nodded. "I'm not sure what I want to do yet. I need time, and space, Bobby, to think about all of this. I don't want to end it with you, even though it might be for the best. But, every time I think of leaving you I can't accept it. I love you too much. It's probably and good thing that this happened now. I mean, we've been working together for four years, being together for two. We never had a time apart. Maybe that's what we need to keep this together, time apart from one another so we don't end up killing each other."

Bobby looked away as he nodded. "For, um, how long?"

"I don't know; however long it takes for me to forgive you. I just might decide that I can't handle being with you. I don't know." Alex opened the door and got out. "I'll call you and let you know."

He watched until she went inside her dark house and a light came on and then put the car into drive. Bobby didn't drive far before he pulled over and turned the engine off. It was hard to breathe as he sat with his hands on the wheel. He sat there for a long time as he felt the emotions crash into him as he thought about what had just happened.

By the time he made it home, it was nearly dawn. He cleaned up the mess in the kitchen before walking the floor. It was noon when his cell rang. It was Deakins. "Hello."

"Bobby, how are you?"

"Uh…okay, considering."

"Yeah, about that, I'm going to need you to come in and clean out your desk today. You got your new assignment."

"Where?" Bobby asked as he stopped walking and waited to hear what his future consisted of and where.

"They're…Bobby, they're sending you to Staten Island."

The End….for now.


	21. Epilogue, Seven Weeks Later

The body was slumped over the steering wheel as the stiff arms hung down against the front of the seat. It had taken a few minutes to air out the garage before he could stand in it without getting a bad headache and burning eyes from all the carbon monoxide that had completely filled it the night before. December had barely gotten under way and the suicides were already starting.

Bobby stared at the man who had decided the previous night that his life wasn't worth living anymore and shook his head. The dead man hadn't even tried to get out of the car. The doors were locked when they arrived. He heard crying off to his right and looked through the door that led into the kitchen. The ex-girlfriend had been the one to find him after trying to call several times only to get the voicemail. They had broken up nearly three weeks ago and she had decided to give him another chance.

He looked back to the man and rubbed at his aching head. If the guy had just waited one more day maybe he would have been okay. He would have still been alive. Bobby finished writing in his binder even though it was an open-shut suicide, there were no indications otherwise, and left the crime scene techs to their work as he went to the kitchen where his partner, Mike Logan, was comforting the hysterical woman.

When Logan looked at him, Bobby nodded giving him is silent word that they were finished. He watched as Logan handed the grieving woman his card and thanked her before joining him by the door.

"Number two and counting," Logan whispered as he slipped by him out the door. "I just hope it doesn't reach the double digits before New Year's."

Bobby didn't say anything as he followed slowly behind. There were gray clouds gathering above them as a storm front moved over the island. The day was starting to reflect his mood, cold and gray. Getting into the passenger seat, he sighed heavily while rubbing at his head as his eyes closed without much fight to stop them.

Logan started the engine on the department issue Crown Victorian that tried to die out and cranked the heat up. The temperature had dropped drastically in the past couple of hours. "Fumes get to you?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

Bobby glanced over at him and nodded silently.

It took a couple of seconds before Logan groaned. "What?"

He felt his shoulders shrug in way of answering but didn't look up from staring at his binder that was on his lap.

"You've been so quiet today. It usually takes me pointing my gun at you to get you to shut-up." When he still didn't answer, Logan groaned again while mockingly asked, "You're not pregnant are you?"

Bobby couldn't help but laugh and he realized how good it felt; it helped a little to ease the tension that was knotted in his shoulders and back.

"Hey, since you're not talking and all; wanna not talk over a drink after work?"

Bobby nodded a little as he turned his troubled eyes toward the window. His thoughts began to swirl around his head, making it hard to concentrate. As the dark clouds were gathering in the sky, they were also gathering in his heart. For the past seven weeks he had been working the Homicide Division at the 128th Precinct on Staten Island after being demoted and transferred from Major Case. Seven weeks wasn't a long time, but he could already feel the changing currents within his self.

It was no secret that working homicide changed a person. With Major Case, he had been able to work all kinds of cases from robbery to art thief to kidnapping and murder. It offered more than just death and even though it had been mentally and emotionally trying, it was nothing overtly overbearing. Homicide was a different beast altogether. He had always thought that it took a special kind of detective to work day-in and day-out in homicide. Every call was about a dead person, whether it was from natural causes, suicide, murder, or accidental death, they were the ones called.

And, there was no such thing as time off. It didn't matter if it was his day off or not the clock never stopped ticking, as it should when it was a murder investigation. He didn't stop working until there was a break in the case or they found the guilty person responsible. It was the same when he worked Major Case; he obsessed over the murder cases and barely slept until he closed them.

He tried to remember the last time he was able to eat a whole meal before his cell signaled a break in the case or a new one. Or the last time he actually ate at home instead of on a stakeout, at the restaurant around the corner from the station, or at his desk in the department. He couldn't. What he could remember was the last time he had dinner with Alex. That night was burn into his memory because it was the last time they were together before it all went to hell.

Seeing that man lying dead in his car with his ex-girlfriend crying in hysterics had shaken him. A day was all that guy had needed to have purpose again but he couldn't wait any longer. Bobby felt the same about his relationship with Alex. Not that he thought about killing himself, but that all he had to do was wait one more day. That one more day had turned into seven weeks and he was still waiting.

He felt the vibration before he heard the ringing of his phone. "Goren," Bobby spoke into it as he answered.

"Where are you and Logan?" It was Sergeant Danielle 'Danny' Macy; she was the watch sergeant on shift at the department.

"We just left the Ulrich residence. Why?"

"I got a call but I want to keep it off the radio."

The urgency in her voice broke through the turbulence of his mind causing him to sit up in the seat. Usually when a call was kept from being broadcast over the radio it meant that the case was big and most likely going to be a media frenzy. "Uh, yeah, Macy, what'd ya got?" Bobby switched the phone to his right hand as he flipped open his binder.

"It's Danny? What's going on?" Logan asked as he slowed for a red light.

"Ten minutes ago," Macy was telling him, "a call came in from 8765 Riverdale Avenue. A woman, Spanish speaking, was crying so hard most of what she said was missed, but a patrol was dispatched and when they arrived, they found both Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Connelly dead."

Bobby could envision the vultures gathering already. Greg Connelly was a well-known and liked entrepreneur who owned two casino boats. "You made the right move by keeping this off the air, so let's try and keep it quiet for as long as possible. I'll call you back on the cell when we know more."

"Okay, Goren, good luck."

Bobby flipped the cell shut as Logan switched on the siren. "8765 Riverdale Avenue."

"And who are the tenants of that mansion?"

"Gregory Connelly and his wife."

"Oh." Logan was silent for a beat before saying, "We may have a few hours at best before this gets out and your old pals at Major Case take over."

As they continued the drive to the Connelly's residence, a heavy snow began to fall. Bobby thought about what Logan had said as he watched the street quickly become a white blanket of snow. Opening his cell back up, he dialed a number and waited.

"Staten Island County Coroner's Office."

"It's Detective Goren, is Kerr in?"

"Yeah, Goren, hang on while I get him."

It didn't take long before the Chief Medical Examiner, Eddie Kerr, answered, "Detective, what can I do for you?"

"It depends if you're busy."

"Let's see…I've got your suicide coming in, a couple of frozen homeless men, a dead whor—ow! I mean, prostitute, and an unknown death, but other than that, it's a pretty quiet day."

Bobby smiled as he envisioned Kerr being smacked by his assistant, Brenda Hanson, as he was about to call the dead prostitute a whore. The man had no respect for the dead when it came to things like that. He was the kind of guy to call things like he saw them and didn't care who he offended. "Is there anyone who can cover for you for a few hours? Hanson maybe?"

"I suppose. What's this about?"

Bobby quickly told him about the Connelly murders and waited for his answer.

"Give me twenty minutes and I'll be on my way."

"Hey, ya, thanks, and keep this off the radio. We're trying to not cause any noise on this until there's no avoiding it."

After he made that call, Bobby then called the Crime Scene Unit and spoke with the CSI in charge, Rachael Porter, and gave her the same information he had given Kerr. So far, he was hoping he could give them more than a few hours with the case before Major Case stepped in and took it. He never understood the distain to having a case taken away until he transferred to Homicide, and now it was at his old squad.

Not more than ten minutes later, they turned down Riverdale. The third gated entrance on the left was the Connelly's. A uniform patrol officer was waiting at the gate and she waved them through. The mansion sat near the back of the property. It was white with blue trimming and all the white icicle Christmas lights that decorated the house were on. He could see the decorated fern tree through the first window to the left of the front door. There was a fountain in the middle of the big yard with an ice angel in the middle; the base of the fountain was quickly filling up with snow.

A patrol car was parked at the top of the driveway and Logan parked behind it. As he got out, Bobby noticed that in the back of the patrol sat an elderly woman with graying black hair wearing a big fur coat over a maid's uniform. She must have been the caller.

Another patrol officer was at the door. The nameplate on his jacket read Gabriele. "The bodies are this way," he told them as he started moving into the house.

"Whoa," Bobby said as he held up his hand to stop the eager officer. "Just point. I don't want anymore of your footprints in the house. When CSU arrives, make sure you give them yours and your partners' boots to print."

Gabriele reddened as he pointed down the hallway past the foyer. "Down the hall, to the right. It leads to the study. Mr. Connelly's in there. Mrs. Connelly is upstairs in the bedroom. It's the fourth door on the left."

Bobby started to walk along the far edge of the floor next to the wall. He stopped and looked back at the officer and dismissed him by saying, "Uh, you can go now."

Gabriele quickly nodded as he turned and headed to the patrol car.

Logan was trying not to laugh as they headed into the house. "Your manners are impeccable. I bet the Chief of D's loves you."

"He loves me so much he put me here with you."

"Hum, tough love."

Bobby smirked a little as he became focused on the job as he entered the study. There was a smell in the air that was so recognizable to him that it was almost frightening. It was the smell of death, and it was the most horrible smell in the world.

"I'll take upstairs," Logan called out.

He heard the echo of Logan's steps through the house and up the stairs before they faded into silence. It was so quiet he could've heard the snow hit the ground outside. Mr. Connelly was lying on the floor next to the desk on his back with his face facing the ceiling. A look of surprise permanently etched into his features but there was no emotion in his eyes. They were empty. There was also a phone next to his left hand.

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Bobby picked up the phone and saw on the display that only one number had been dialed, the number nine. It was likely that Mr. Connelly was trying to call the police when he was killed. There was a single gunshot to the center of his forehead, a kill shot. That was when he knew that it wasn't just a murder, but an execution.

Logan met him at the bottom of the spiral staircase. "One shot, execution style to the center of her head."

"Mr. Connelly was killed the same way. Professional hit."

"Seems that way," Logan agreed as they headed for the door. "Nothing's disturbed; there're no signs that it had been a robbery gone wrong. The only purpose the guy had was to kill. Oh, and they have a son. From the looks of his bedroom that could be classified as a health hazard, I'll say it's a teenager."

"We need to get a recent picture of him and get a BOLO out on him as soon as we can."

Officer Gabriele was sitting in the patrol car, doing paperwork, until he spotted them coming out of the house. He quickly got out and came up to them. "So?"

"Have you called anyone else about this?" Logan asked.

"It's not procedure for me to call anyone except the watch sergeant."

Bobby eyed the young officer and asked again, "Did you?"

Gabriele shook his head wildly. "No, sir."

"All right," Logan stepped up to the officer and leaned beside him against the car. "Tell us everything you saw and heard since arriving. Go."

Gabriele's account started with being dispatched to the scene. He arrived and found that there was no forced entry and the front door was unlocked because the maid, Amelia Ramirez, who found the bodies had unlocked it when she arrived at the house at four. He then checked the house, room-by-room, and once it was clear, reported back to the watch sergeant. The interview took a grand total of a minute and a half.

Bobby opened the back door to the patrol. "Señorita Ramirez?"

Amelia Ramirez held a tight frown on her tear stricken face as her voice shook when she answered, "Sí."

"Habla usted inglés?"

"No," she said as she shook her head.

Logan leaned down and asked, "You speak Spanish?"

Bobby nodded as he said, "Among many others." He rounded the car and got in beside her. "Uh, c-could, uh…could you shut the door, Logan. It's freezing."

Logan did as he was asked and then got into the front passenger seat. He turned around and faced them as Bobby started the questioning.

He asked first about the son and where he was. Amelia said that she didn't know where their son was. Kevin Connelly, who was seventeen, usually stayed gone during the weekends, and since it was Friday, he wouldn't be home until Sunday. After that, Bobby asked her to tell him as calmly as possible what happened that day. He listened and never interrupted as he wrote down her account of what happened. When she began crying and talking faster, and through the hiccups of her shaky voice, all Bobby caught was that she found Mr. Connelly dead and called the police. He thanked her and after getting her phone number and address, told her it was okay for her to leave. He watched as Amelia's car turned out of the driveway onto the street just as the coroner's van pulled up into it.

A full-scale search of the house took hours. Even though the murders happened in two rooms, there could be evidence anywhere. It was clear to him on a once over of the downstairs that the Connelly's had been entertaining guests, or a guest, that afternoon before they were killed. Logan had found a picture of the son soon after Amelia left and a BOLO, which stood for 'be-on-the-lookout' flyer, given to all the patrols on the island.

Bobby was seated at the desk in the upstairs office, searching through the drawers and files, when he heard a beautiful familiar voice that haunted his dreams every night. Looking up, he watched as Alex entered the room.

"Hey," she said a little tentatively, as if she was afraid to be in the same room with him.

Or that could have been his own fear blinding him. Bobby could feel the tension in his body growing already. "Deakins sent you?"

"I guess he was feeling sorry for me. It's my first case after three weeks of desk duty."

Bobby nodded as he stared at her. Once he realized that he was staring, he looked away. "Where's your partner?"

"I don't have one yet," Alex said with an exaggerated sigh. "I have to work with whoever the responding detectives are. Lucky me, it's you and Logan."

Bobby didn't know how to take that last sarcastic comment; he couldn't tell if she was glad or if she was dreading working with him again.

Logan's voice cut through the dread as he heard him say, "Ought oh, I hear my name coming from a woman. This can't be good." He appeared in the doorway and spotted Alex. "You know me but I don't know you."

Alex glanced over at him and rolled her eyes. Bobby withheld a smirk and shook his head. Alex and Mike in the same room together, he was doomed.

"I'm Detective Eames."

"Oh, you mean the Detective Eames that Goren goes on-and-on about."

Bobby's jaw twitched as Logan said that and ducked his head away from Alex's eyes. He didn't need to see her expression to know what her reaction would be.

"And you're the Detective Logan who clocked that politician."

"I deny everything."

"To bad that line didn't work for you ten years ago."

Bobby wanted to throw his fist up in the air and hail victory to Alex but he was trying too hard to appear invisible to make such a bold move.

"Ouch," Logan finally registered defeat as he said, "You're tough. I think I might not mind it too much when I have to hand this case over to you."

Bobby glanced up at that and softly smiled as she looked over at him and did the same.

"Actually," she told Logan, "you're not gonna have to. We're working it together."

Logan stood stocked still for a moment as he looked over at him. Bobby gave him a reassuring nod before looking at the files in his lap. The papers were old tax forms for the past five years. He did a quick scan of the documents but what he was seeing wasn't making a whole lot of sense to him.

"What is it?" Alex asked from directly in front of him.

Bobby closed his eyes as he caught her scent. She was so close it was agonizing. "Uh, s-something's, um…" he cleared his throat as he glanced up at her and held up the papers in his hands. "Something's off with the tax forms, but…I'm not sure what, exactly. I'm gonna have to have someone take a look at them, see if they're legit." He went through the drawer and gathered all the papers and files into a pile as he called out into the hallway, "Porter, you out there?"

"I'm busy, Goren. What'd you need?"

"A box."

A couple of seconds later, a CSI tech that he barely recognized brought him a cardboard evidence box. Bobby dumped all the files into it and filled out the information on the lid and side. When he looked around the office, he noticed that Alex was no longer in the room, and Logan was gone as well.

He found Logan in the kitchen talking on his cell phone. Logan covered the phone with his hand as he told him, "Kerr's done with the bodies. No new evidence and he sent out blood work to toxicology."

Bobby nodded as he grabbed a coffee out of the to-go carrier that was on the island in the middle of the kitchen. There was one last cup in it and he pointed to it.

"Eames," Logan explained before he went back to talking on the phone.

Bobby took it out as well and prepared both cups. Taking them with him, he went in search of Alex. He found her in the living room talking to one of the techs about the wineglasses that were on the tables.

Alex turned as he entered the room. With seeing the two coffees in his hands, she smiled at him as she took the one offered to her. "Thanks, I kept forgetting it was in there."

He smiled back as he leaned down and whispered to her, "Welcome back." Bobby caught the blush before she covered it with taking a drink of the coffee. "What'd you find?"

"There's lipstick on two glasses."

Bobby took a sip of the warm coffee before saying, "I know. That, uh, confused me. Why would Mrs. Connelly drink from two different wineglasses?"

Alex smirked at him. "That's because she wouldn't, and in this case, didn't."

Bobby looked at her and then at the wineglasses. Going over to them, he bent over and studied the shade on both. "They look the same to me."

"One's Rosemary Red. A cheap brand. The other is called Silk, and it's much more expensive. Same color, different quality and texture."

Bobby smiled as he rubbed at his head. Walking over to her, he said, "I would've missed it, until the forensic report came back proving me wrong."

"That's why you need a woman."

Bobby stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I've got one; she just doesn't return my phone calls."

"Bobby, when I feel ready to talk, I'll call you."

Bobby shyly looked away as he nodded. She would call him; that was what she told him seven weeks ago and she still hadn't done it. It was going to be on her terms, not his. That was probably the message she was trying to send him and he was receiving it loud and clear. Having this be on her terms was killing him. "Um…I know, it's…" He looked around the room then into her eyes as he told her, "If you don't want to talk, about, uh…us, that's fine. I don't care. I mean, I do care, but uh…" he closed his eyes and tried to get his mind back on track. "I don't care what you call me for, okay. It can be for anything…you can call me. It doesn't matter if it's two in the morning, I'll listen."

Alex took a few sips of the coffee as she looked at him in thought. Finally, she nodded, "I know."

Logan entered the room and they both turned to look at him. "Patrol found the son," he told them as he pulled on his leather overcoat.

* * *

Bobby watched through the windshield of the car as Kevin Connelly ducked behind a brand new 2005 Mercedes Benz and picked up a soda can that had been sitting between the rear right tire. He dipped what looked to be a cigarette into the can, waited a few seconds, then pulled it out. Bobby knew what the kid was doing having seen it so many times while working narcotics. The kid was coating the marijuana cigarette with liquid acid. Going back over to the door, Kevin handed it to a kid that looked to be around the same age. The kid paid and then slipped back inside the warehouse where a rave was taking place.

He looked over at Logan who was watching and shaking his head. "Their kid's a dealer."

"It's a shame," Logan said. "The Connelly's have all this money, live in a big mansion, send their kid to private school, and what does he do? He goes around making acid-sticks for his high school pals." He pocketed the car keys as he looked over at him, asking, "Ready?"

Bobby hesitated for a moment as he looked back to Kevin. From a distance, he could tell that the teen was tall, about six feet, with dark hair and eyes like his father. The black pants the kid was wearing was sagging down close to his knees and despite the weather, he was only wearing a hooded sweatshirt. "Does he look like a runner to you?"

"Yep," Logan verified his suspicion. "And I bet he could out run us if his pants weren't hugging his knees."

"Thought so," Bobby mumbled as he unconsciously rubbed at his right knee. The cold weather was making it ache.

The warehouse was a couple of blocks from the port that the casino boats that Kevin's father owned docked. At that moment, those boats were out on the ocean with a hundred or more people oblivious to the fact that the owner and his wife were dead.

Bobby picked up the two-way radio, and spoke into it. "One-two-eight Charlie to Unit 226, Detective Eames, come in, over."

Alex was parked on the adjacent street which was to the left of where they were sitting. From his position, he couldn't see the SUV because it was blocked by the building they were parked next to. After a moment, the radio static cracked and she answered, "This is Unit 226, over."

"Uh, yeah," Bobby said as he looked back to watching Kevin, who was making another acid-stick for another teenage boy. "We think we've got a runner. Give us twenty seconds then come up the street, stay to the left. We'll approach and surround. Over."

"Roger that, and out." Then the radio went silent.

Bobby lowered the radio and looked at Logan who was trying not to smile. "What?"

"Are you sure you two aren't married? That had to be the most professionally tense conversation I've ever heard. Ever. She wouldn't even call you Detective Goren."

Bobby didn't say anything as he got out of the car because he knew Logan was right. She had kept from referring directly to him and it pissed his off. Shaking it off, he looked around as he clipped the radio to the back left side of his belt. As he did so, his arm brushed over the butt of his gun and he hoped he wouldn't have to pull it. He also hoped that Kevin was smart and didn't try to run.

Logan crossed to the left side of the street while he stayed to the right. With the way they were approaching Kevin, Logan would be in the middle, he would be to right and Alex would come up on the left. Kevin would have nowhere to run if he did try to take off. At the moment, Kevin was turned with his back to him.

Bobby couldn't hear what Kevin was saying to two other teenage kids, a boy and girl, due to the loud bass booming from inside the warehouse and bouncing off the walls; he knew they were all taking to each other because he could see their white breaths in the cold air. He started to head more right, making sure to come up from Kevin's side, when the teenage boy spotted his movements and he was made.

The teens took off inside the warehouse as Kevin looked back over his shoulder and right at Logan. Bobby's hand was on his gun but he didn't pull it because Logan was running up on Kevin fast with his gun pointed right at him.

"Police," Logan yelled but the power of it died in the loud bass.

Bobby watched as Alex advanced on Kevin and because of Logan, she wasn't seen.

Kevin took off on a dead run but ran right toward Alex. She caught him by the shoulders and slammed her knee between his legs and let go. Kevin dropped so hard his face hitting the snow caused a big white cloud to shoot up in the air then cover him. He was down for the count.

Logan holstered his gun and looked at Alex. "Damn; where've you been all my life?"

Bobby smiled at the glare she shot Logan.

Logan was smiling too as he picked Kevin off the ground and tossed him toward the wall. "Relax, kid, and breathe deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Come on, don't pass out on us. We need to talk to you."

Kevin was bent over, his face red and in pain, and holding the area between his legs. "Think 'm gonna get sick."

Bobby barely contained his laughter as he walked up beside Logan and helped him to hold the boy against the wall. Checking him over, he said, "You should be glad she didn't pull her gun. Why'd you run?"

"You's cops, 5-0, pigs."

"Uh-huh, and this cop got you for evading," Bobby told him as he turned Kevin around to face the wall. "Spread 'em."

"Get off me! I ain't do nothin'," Kevin angrily protested as he struggled against them, using his hands to push himself off the wall.

"All the money for private school and you don't have better grammar than that?" Logan teased the kid as he pushed Kevin back against the wall.

"B.D.K., are you alright?" a teenage girl asked as she was walking over to see what was going on.

Alex stopped her with a glare and her shield as she said, "He's about to go to jail; how about you?"

The girl immediately muttered something and headed back inside the warehouse.

Logan eyed Kevin as he asked, "B.D.K?"

Kevin tried to turn around as he said while grinning, "I'm workin' on my rapper name. It stands for--"

"Shut-up, Shrimp Daddy," Logan said, cutting him off. "And turn around before I make you."

"You know what, I don't care," Kevin said in anger at being cut off. "Arrest me! Give me some street cred. I'm gonna be big, you pig, like Eminem."

Kevin tried to turn around again but it was Bobby who got frustrated and grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him harder into the wall. "Stay put, Skittles. If you try that again, I'll add resisting." He then started to search Kevin's pockets.

Logan was laughing now as he told Kevin, "Skittles. Now that's the perfect name for you. See, once we put you up in county, you'll be tasting the rainbow, you know what I'm saying?"

"Screw you," Kevin shot back but Bobby could tell that some of the fight was out of the kids voice. Maybe he was starting to take this seriously.

Bobby pulled out a wad of money held together by a rubber band, a wallet, cell phone, and then two baggies of cocaine from the back pocket. "We've got snow, and I don't mean the kind that melts." He held the baggies out for Kevin to see. "Where'd you get this?"

Kevin visibly paled as he closed his eyes.

Taking out his handcuffs, Bobby cuffed him while he told him his Miranda Rights. Grabbing Kevin's shoulder, he turned him around and asked again, "Where'd you get it?"

Kevin shook his head. "I ain't no rat."

"Wrong answer," Logan said as he pushed the kid toward the wall.

Bobby watched as Kevin glared at Logan then turned his head down and looked away. Leaning over, he caught Kevin's eyes and asked, "Wanna try another one?"

Kevin still didn't answer and kept his head down.

He sighed and looked to Logan. "Let's take him home."

"Let's," Logan gripped Kevin by the shoulder and pulled him closer to him and started for the street.

Kevin flinched and jerked away as fear filled his eyes. "He called you, didn't he?"

Bobby stared at the kid as he asked, "Who's he?"

"My pops, man. He called you, right? How else would you know where to find me?"

Bobby was momentarily stunned as he looked down at Alex who shook her head at him. Kevin had no idea. "Why…why'd you think your dad would call us?"

Kevin eyed him and then looked at Logan, and then Alex as if he was trying to put something together in his head. "I want a lawyer and I want to call my dad. Now."

Bobby stepped back and looked at Logan. He felt the door slamming on him the moment Kevin asked for a lawyer and to speak to his father; they weren't going to get anywhere with the kid now.

Logan pulled out his shield and showed it to Kevin. "We're Homicide detectives," he told him.

Bobby heard Logan tell Kevin that both his parents were dead. Kevin turned a shade of white and green as he stumbled against the wall and then hit his knees. The booming music that bounced around them as he looked down at Alex drowned out the sound of Kevin's vomiting.

A few minutes later, Alex asked Kevin, who was sitting on the ground shaking, "Is there anyone we need to call?"

Kevin's pale face was still slack; he was in shock as he slowly nodded his head. "My grandparents. They live in Long Island."

Alex nodded as she turned to him. "I'll give them a call when I get back to the department."

Bobby agreed as he sat down next to Kevin on the sidewalk. "Why did you think, that, um…your father sent us out here to get you?"

Kevin was silent for a long moment as he stared at the ground. "I thought he discovered his stash gone, and I was the only one that could've taken it. I thought…I don't know, maybe he was trying to scare me or something."

"So," Bobby said as he looked at Kevin who was staring at a spot straight in front of him. "The drugs I found on you, it's your fathers'?"

"Yeah."

"Where was it? In a safe?"

Kevin shook his head and closed his eyes. "Nothing like that. It was in his cigar box, on top of a bookshelf in his upstairs office."

Bobby looked away, toward the car where Logan was calling into the department to let them know what they had on Kevin. "Your dad, he uh, he was a powerful guy. I bet he knew cops, huh? Cops who would help him out…or, uh, cops who he could call in the middle of the night to come out here and scare you?"

Kevin looked over at him and then nodded a little. "He knows some. I never saw them though, or heard their names. Just that, um, this one time when I got into trouble, my dad called them and they made it go away."

Bobby studied him and once he was satisfied with what he saw, he asked, "Were you home at all today after school?" After Kevin shook his head, he asked, "Did you know if anyone was going to come over today?"

Kevin shook his head again. "No, but now I wish I did." Tears started to run down his face and he tried to use his shoulders to wipe them away. "What's gonna happen to me?"

Bobby didn't know what to tell the kid. It depended on what his lawyer could do for him, but he was sure given the circumstances and who Kevin's father was, Kevin was probably looking at a good plea agreement in his future. Then it struck him that maybe Kevin wasn't talking about the charges that would be brought against him, but what was going to happen to him now that his family was gone.

He never gave Kevin an answer. Alex took him with her as she headed back to the department to book Kevin into the system and for him to wait on the arrival of his grandparents and lawyer.

Bobby walked up to the Crown Vic and folded his arms on top of it; he rested his head on his arms as he waited for Logan to get off the radio.

"So, what's the deal?" Logan asked once he was finished talking to Reynolds, the night watch sergeant who took over for Macy.

"Kevin said the coke belongs to his father and that he kept it in a cigar box in the upstairs office. I processed that room and I found the cigar box, but it was empty. I'll call CSU and have them check it for reside. He also said that he has no idea who came to the house."

"That it?"

Not knowing why, Bobby looked around the street before dropping his voice. "Yeah, he says that his father knew cops?"

"Hell, that's not anything new. Everyone with money on this island knows cops."

Bobby knew that, but that wasn't what he was trying to say. He stared over at Logan as he asked, "Would it surprise you if we found that the Connelly's had cops on their payroll?"

Logan had opened the door and was about to get into the car when that stopped him. He stared right back at him as he said, "No, but let's just say I'm not going down that road unless I necessary have too. And if I'm going down it, so are you, and with body armor and machine guns, and a suicide pill in case one of us gets captured."

Bobby smirked as he opened the passenger door. "Been thinking about that one for a while haven't you?"

Logan huffed out a laugh. "Since I've been here, every damn day."

* * *

Alex had beaten them back to the department by at least twenty minutes but she stuck around to help with the daily reports. By the time they were done with the paperwork, it was nearing eleven o'clock.

"Okay, genius. What's your theory?" Logan asked as he signed off on the last form and tossed the file into the stack in the middle of the three joined desks.

They had pushed an extra desk for Alex to use against the sides of his and Logan's desk so she could sit with them instead of way across the room. Bobby shook his head as he started to gather his copies of the case into his binder.

"Bullshit."

Bobby glared up at Logan who was eyeing him from across their desks.

"You've got both your partners here and you can't bullshit both of us. You've got something rattling around in that Ritalin deprived brain of yours. What is it?"

He looked from Logan to Alex as he said, "See how he speaks to me?"

Alex smiled. "He's right, and you can't change the subject. Spill."

Bobby liked seeing that smile and realized how much he had missed it. Taking his mind away from that and back to the case, he turned to Logan and sighed heavily. "I think that, uh…given the time of both deaths to be nearly exact, and that there's evidence of two, uh, guests, one male and one female. And if we're assuming that two different guns were used, then they, at one point, got the Connelly's separated, one went upstairs with Mrs. Connelly while the other stayed with Mr. Connelly…" he shrugged as he finished, "then they were killed."

"What'd you mean if we're assuming that two guns were used?"

Bobby leaned back in his chair as he answered Logan, "Ballistics hasn't come back yet. It could be the same gun…One gun, one killer. Just because there were two other people there, it doesn't mean both of them had the intent to kill. The hit, it's professional. The male I can see being a professional hit man, but the woman," he took a glance over at Alex. "I'm not sure about."

Alex rolled her eyes at him. "I'm an excellent shot."

"Yeah, but could you cold-bloodedly shoot another woman, a mother?"

"Okay," Logan interrupted before Alex could give him an answer. "Theory as to motive? I'm going with the drugs."

Bobby finally took his eyes from Alex's as he nodded. "Yeah, maybe. It could be that, or…and, the casino boats. Someone could be looking to take it over. With the gambling, drugs…I wouldn't be surprised to find that the Connelly are involved in something illegal, or organized crime," he said that while he thought about the tax records he had found and what they could mean.

Logan looked over at Alex while he said, "I used to think all this guesswork was meaningless. Now I've come to rely on it like actual fact."

Bobby rubbed at his tired eyes as he leaned all the way back in the chair, bringing the two-front legs up off the floor, and looked at the ceiling. His instinct was telling him that the tax records were a big part of the whole case. It felt like a spark lit up deep inside him and he had to follow it. He heard laughing and when he looked, he realized that both Logan and Alex were laughing at him.

The chair came back down with a 'thump' as the front legs hit the floor. He felt drawn between saying something and hiding his head but didn't do either. He was done with caring and he was done for the day as well. Looking at Logan then to Alex, he said, "We're going out for a drink," he gestured to Logan before adding, "You're welcome to come if you want, Eames."

Alex raised her eyes at him but didn't say anything as she thought that over. Finally, she told him, "Thanks, but it's late and I have some paperwork at One P.P. that I have to get done before I can head home."

"You sure?"

She gave him a smile as she stood, and then stretched her arms and back out. Her shirt stretched tighter around her body and chest as it came up a little, exposing a bit of her skin above the waistband of her jeans. Bobby blinked and looked away by looking into her eyes.

"Yep, I'm sure."

He was sure that he gave her a nod but wasn't certain as he watched her grab her black overcoat and slip it on. As she started to gather up her files and notes, it reminded him once again at how much their lives had changed. Alex no longer had him to rely on for note-taking and hauling around the bulky files. She was now the one responsible for all that along with everything else.

"See you tomorrow," Bobby heard his voice say; and it sounded like it was in a form of a question, like he wasn't certain if she would continue working with him.

He had just been staring at her body moments before. It could have freaked her out…even though he had seen her bare it all on many occasions. He realized he was waiting on an answer as Alex was looking at him as if he had lost his mind. He probably had.

Alex finally answered, "Yeah, you'll see me tomorrow." Then she gave Logan a wave before leaving the squad room.

Bobby watched until she rounded a corner and disappeared. That was when he noticed that Logan had been watching her leave as well. He felt the anger rise in him as his eyes narrowed.

Logan turned and immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Calm down; you're my partner and she's your girlfriend. That's off limits."

Bobby thought about that as he picked up his binder and grabbed his own black overcoat. Theoretically, yes, they were still together and she was still his girlfriend because neither of them had come out and said one way or the other if they were over or not. It was as if they were on a separation but hadn't yet started to try and work things out. Now he fully understood what Elliot Stabler was going through with his wife. The waiting to find out if the ship that had been sinking was too damaged to be saved or not was killing him.

He just had to wait until Alex told him what the deal was. As Bobby slid on his overcoat, he knew that with her he would wait forever if he had too. God that sounded pathetic. Bobby shook his head and followed Logan out of the squad room, down the long hallway, and then down the staircase that led out into the blistering cold night air.

Bobby never drove his mustang to work, especially now that he worked on the island. In the mornings, he would drive into Manhattan and meet up with Logan at his apartment or he would take the subway if Logan was already out at some diner or deli getting breakfast. Then Logan would drive them both to the ferry. After work was different because sometimes him and Logan would leave at different times, so he would either take a cab from work or have another cop who was leaving give him a lift. Hardly anyone who was a cop on Staten Island lived on Staten Island. That was usually the case with most officers. No cop wanted to work the streets he or she lived on. It caused too many problems.

"Wanna get a drink here or wait 'til we get to the city?"

"The sooner the better," Bobby said as he put his binder in the trunk of Logan's car where it would be safe.

"The cop bar or Code 7?"

Bobby stared at Logan over the top of the car. He wasn't in the mood tonight for Logan's game of twenty questions. Instead of giving him his usual assault of ridiculous answers, he pulled open the door a little too hard, making it bounce off the spring, and got in without answering.

Whatever ray of light that had settled in him earlier was gone and the dark storm clouds were once again settling in him. Alex was at Major Case all alone with no partner, and he was stuck on Staten Island having to listen to Mike Logan. He felt like a lost dog stuck out in the rain waiting for someone to let him in.

It was a ten-minute drive to the bar known around the department as Code 7, which was the radio call for 'out of service' or 'on break'. Basically, if the code was used then it meant that you weren't going to be able to be contacted for a while, essentially it was going AWOL from the job. It wasn't the official name of the small dive bar that was in the back of a rundown bowling alley, but that was what every cop on the island called it because it wasn't the cop bar. Being a cop, if you weren't at the cop bar then you might as well be Code 7.

The only door to the bar was off the back parking lot and it was a huge reinforced concreted metal slab. When the bar closed, there was no locking the door from the inside so there was only a padlock on the front. It also had no handle on it couldn't be opened from the outside. Anyone who wanted in had to bang on the slab and hope it was heard on the other side.

Bobby planted his feet firmly on the ground and brought his gloved left hand up and with every thing he had, pounded on the door.

"I like the way you do that," Logan told him in the quiet of the dark parking lot. "Sounds like judgment day's coming. Very nice."

"If it were a suspect's house, it would be," Bobby said as the door barely moved an inch.

The bouncer, a man they simply called Big given his height and size, asked through the door, "ID's? If you don't have 'em, get lost."

"Big," Logan said as he stepped up to the opening. "It's us, open up."

"Sorry," Big said as he pushed the door open a little more. "It's darker 'an shit out there."

The door was opened just wide enough to let them slip through before Big pulled it shut again. The place only held about fifty people without it being considered a fire hazard. Right then, there were less than half that and most were men. There were only a handful of women, two of which worked there.

Bobby took the only stool at the end of the bar on the corner beside the wall. It gave him a great view of the whole place even though the door was to his back. Logan sat just on the other side of the corner and was looking right at the assortment of liquor bottles that was lining the back of the bar below the mirror.

"You know, I don't even know the official name of this place," Bobby told Logan after he ordered a bourbon and coke. Saying the work 'coke' had reminded him of Kevin sitting in holding wondering about the rest of his life, so he had to change the subject and get his mind off it.

"I don't think it has one." Logan looked at the guy next to him and asked, "What'd you call this place?"

The man looked at Logan and with a drunken slur said, "I 'all it the cheap dive bar behind 'ah bowlin' alley."

Logan nodded his thanks. "How 'bout you?" he asked the woman bartender as she sat a beer in front of him. "What'd you call it?"

"Work," she told Logan before leaning over the bar and placing Bobby's glass down in front of him.

She was giving him plenty to look at if he was interested, but he wasn't; so Bobby looked at his glass until she was gone. The very first night Logan brought him there, which was a month ago, the woman, whose name he couldn't remember right at the moment, had started flirting with him. Logan had told him that she did it with every one who walked in, probably in hopes of getting better tips. At first, he agreed until he realized that she never did it with Logan or any of the other men seated at the bar. Or, it was that on the nights he was there, she only did it to him.

It didn't matter if she flirted with him or not, Bobby still tipped her a lot due to one reason: he always tipped generously usually no matter what.

"See," Logan was saying, "This is the no name bar. There isn't a sign or flyer or anything advertising this little place. It's just here with a big ass concrete slab separating us from the rest of the world. It says, 'come in if you have the balls, if not, the sports bar's around the corner for you pansies."

Bobby just looked at Logan and shook his head. The first swallow of the bourbon and coke was strong and it went down hard. It took three more to ease his throat and relax him.

"You know," Logan said after a long while of silence that Bobby had been enjoying. He saw that Logan was on his second beer and he was still sipping on his first drink. "You're a creature of habit. You order the same drink no matter what. Why don't you have a beer on me?"

Bobby sat the almost empty glass down as he explained to Logan, "If I start drinking beer, I'll be downing them like water, and I'll be drunk in an hour. Alcohol goes slower."

Logan slowly nodded. "Gotcha, you don't want to get smash and me having to drive your drunken ass home."

"Your right, I don't…and, uh, especially not here. I do my smashing at home where it belongs."

That got a laugh from Logan. "Why do I get the feeling you mean that in more ways than one?"

Bobby just shrugged as he took a few more sips, emptying the glass, and looked around the place. A few more people were coming in.

A well-built young man in his twenties, with dark blond hair stepped into the bar. He looked the place over before nodding to the other, much older man that was standing outside. The kid must have been the bodyguard. The older man look to be in his fifties with gray hair and he wore a charcoal gray suit, black dress shirt, red tie, and hanging off his arm was a much younger woman. She was wearing her finest pearls, black cocktail dress, and wearing a big fur coat that reminded Bobby of Amelia Ramirez who he had questioned earlier that day.

Bobby felt a tap on his shoulder; he turned and was looking right into Logan's dark blue eyes. "Mob?"

Logan looked over toward the door. "Yea," he said quietly but it still carried a hint of warning. "The casino boats must be docked, or…and my guess is, that he has a personal boat that takes him back and forth." He looked back at him and told him, "The Don of the Staten Island Italian mafia; his name's Paulie Savoie. Nice huh? Word is, he runs the entire underworld here. I call him Mr. Invincible."

"Why's that?" Bobby asked as he watched as Savoie took a table by the door.

Logan waited until Bobby looked back at him. "Let it go. Trust me, you don't want to get anywhere near him."

Bobby took one last look at the Don before turning around in his seat. He decided to let it go, for now.

A couple of hours later Bobby was talking to the woman bartender whose name he now knew was Susanna, when he heard a sound that stung his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. Looking over at the table in the corner by the door, he saw the woman in the black dress holding her reddening face. The hardening of her face couldn't stop the tear from the initial hit from falling down her cheek.

There was no holding up his shield in a place like that, but that didn't stop Bobby from marching over to the table and grabbing the hand when Savoie drew back to take another swing, and twist it back hard. The bodyguard was on him in a flash and he had to drop Savoie's hand to shove the kid away.

"Do y'have any idea, who I am?" Savoie asked in a quietly strong Brooklyn accent that didn't register a hint of emotion.

Bobby eyed Savoie and saw that his eyes were so dark they were nearly black and they too held no emotion. "Yes, I do," he told him just as quietly without letting his own emotions betray him. "And I think that such a, ah, respectable man like yourself wouldn't sink so low as to hit a woman."

Savoie stared long and hard at him before saying, "Steve-o," he called to his bodyguard. "Take this man, out back, have 'im wait for me."

As Bobby steadied his self and readied himself for a fight, he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and pull him back.

"Whoa, easy! Cool it, Bobby," it was Logan and he pushed Bobby away from the table before Steve could get to him.

Bobby was breathing hard as it suddenly dawned on him what he had done. His hands clenched at his sides as he watched Logan face the Italian mafia Don that he had almost beat into the wall. Glancing over, he noticed that Big was sitting by the door and watching with an amused smirk on his face.

"Hey, Mr. Savoie, I'm sorry," Logan was trying to apologize from him. "He's new here. Okay? He didn't mean anything by it."

Savoie was rubbing as his hand as he kept his emotionless black eyes on him. "He your boy, Mike-e?"

Logan glanced back at him and nodded. "Yeah, you can say that. Look, he's drunk and his mother was hit on. You can't blame the guy for acting the way he did."

Bobby blinked back and eyed Logan in confusion. There was no way Logan could have known that about his mother seeing how he never told him. With trying to lie his way out of it, Logan had unknowing hit the nail right on the head.

The bar was very quiet and the only thing Bobby could hear was his own pounding heart and deep breathing. His fists were pulsing as he stared from Logan to Savoie who was eyeing him right back.

"O-kay," was all Savoie said before picking up his drink and turning his head away from them.

Bobby felt a wave of relief but he still didn't know what to do as he looked from Logan to Savoie and then to the woman at the table. She was holding a makeup case in one hand and powdering her face with the other as if it had never happened.

"C'mon, we've got to go." Logan was pushing him toward the door as he shoved his overcoat into his hands.

As they reached the door, Bobby stopped and looked over at the table. Savoie was watching him with those lazy looking dead eyes that were actually more frightening then if they held some sort of anger or rage.

"Go," Logan said sternly into his ear and pushed him through the door. Once out into the freezing night air, he turned to him. "That was the stupidest, most idiotic…He could've killed you!"

Bobby buttoned the top button on his coat as he calmly said, "He hit her."

"So! Let him! He's Italian mob," Logan said more softly like he suddenly realized how loud he was being and that his voice was carrying through the dark. "You don't fuck with those guys."

As they neared the car, Bobby said, "And you know him."

Logan stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Don't go there. I've been working this damn island for ten years. I know just about everyone, the good and the bad. I just don't fuck with the bad because I have this thing inside me called self-preservation. Something that you apparently lack." After telling him off, he dropped his hand, went to the car, and unlocked it. "I should let you walk, but you're my partner. Get in."

Bobby started walking as he glanced back at the building. Stopping at the passenger door, he asked, "How come no one has gotten to him yet?"

Logan groaned and yanked open the door. "Like I said, Mr. Invincible. Every cop on this island feels the same way I do; they want to get off it, not get buried under it."

"But--"

"Forget it, Bobby, it's Staten Island. Now get in before the Don changes his mind. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die tonight."

Half an hour later, Bobby stared down into the dark depths of the water that made the Hudson. The ferry was steadily making its way toward the city. Looking up, he stared at the spot where the two towers of the World Trade Center used to be and felt a sadness twist his stomach. He then looked over to Ellis Island and at the Statue of Liberty.

"You okay?"

Bobby glanced over at Logan and nodded.

"You know, every night I've been crossing this bay and looking at the statue, and every night I feel like a newly arriving immigrant with the fear and excitement of what'll await me once the boat docks. Weird, huh?"

Bobby looked away from the symbol of freedom and looked at Logan. "Wanna know what I think when I look at it?" When Logan looked at him, he told him, "I think of all the reasons why I'm a cop."

Then he turned back to looking into the water that was as black as Paul Savoie's eyes and knew that he would never forgot them. Not until he was seeing them behind metal bars of a jail cell.

TBC…


End file.
